


Washed Away In You

by rsadelle



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:55:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26291485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rsadelle/pseuds/rsadelle
Summary: Harry and Zayn first spot each other across a cafe. It's not much later that they properly meet, start dating, and have a lot of sex.
Relationships: Zayn Malik/Harry Styles
Comments: 10
Kudos: 39





	Washed Away In You

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Harry's "Watermelon Sugar."

Harry flops down onto the couch next to Louis and sighs. When neither Louis nor Niall looks away from their video game, she sighs louder.

Louis jerks sideways, jamming an elbow into Niall and making him lose.

Louis crows in victory, throwing his arms up before he drops his controller and hooks his arm around Harry's neck. "All right, drama queen," as if he's one to talk. "What are you sighing about?"

"I saw a goddess today," Harry says. She sighs again.

"You in love again?" Niall turns off the telly so they aren't trying to talk over the video game music.

Louis ruffles Harry's hair. "Tell us about your goddess."

Harry sighs yet again, because thinking about the goddess she saw requires that sort of reaction. "I was in the cafe," she says. "You know the one with the biscuits with the sugar crystals on them and the tea display?"

Louis and Niall both nod; they've all been there together.

"I wanted a cup of tea and a biscuit," Harry says. "After my lectures. I took some reading." She frowns. "I have lots of reading this term."

Louis tugs Harry's hair. "Get on with it, Harriet."

Harry makes a face at him; that's not her name, and she likes to tell things her way.

"I looked up," Harry says, "and I saw her." She sighs. "The goddess. She was at a table with a stack of books. She was reading, and she had two more books open on the table." She can see the goddess in her mind, the books framing her so that all Harry could see was her face, the hint of her collarbone, her hands and wrists. "She had golden skin and the sharpest jaw. She was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." Harry sighs.

"Did you talk to her then?" Niall asks.

Harry shakes her head. "No." She sighs again, this time for the tragedy of it. "She looked at her phone, and then she took all her books and left." She rolls her head against the back of the sofa. "What if I never see her again?"

"You didn't even talk to her," Louis says.

"I know," Harry says mournfully. "And now I won't."

Louis shakes her lightly. "You never know. Might see her at the tea shop again."

"She's probably at uni with us," Niall says, "if she had all those books."

Harry sighs and slouches down to lean her head on Louis's shoulder. "I have to see her again."

Zayn gets home from her seminar and hovers around the kitchen while Liam makes them both a cup of tea. Her fingers keep twitching. She had a cigarette on the way back to the flat, but her fingers twitch for another one.

"You're twitchy," Liam says when he hands her a mug of tea.

She wraps her hands around the mug to stop from tapping them on something, or trying to pull out a cigarette despite their agreement that she won't smoke in the flat.

"There was a girl," she admits.

Liam smiles at her encouragingly.

"She was." Zayn stops and thinks about her. The girl across the cafe who looked out the window at the people passing by while she ate her biscuit, who held a book and her teacup with long fingers. The rings on her fingers. Short fingernails painted black. Wide mouth. Wavy hair falling just to the top of her shoulders.

"I wanted to draw her," Zayn says with an embarrassed shrug.

"Just draw her?" Liam asks with a truly embarrassingly bad attempt at an eyebrow waggle.

It makes Zayn's mouth tug up at the corner. "Maybe not just that," Zayn says.

Liam smiles brightly at her. "Did you get her number?"

Zayn shrugs. "Didn't talk to her."

"Zaynie," Liam protests. "Why not?"

"She was across the cafe," Zayn says. "She was reading. I was reading. I had a seminar." Zayn shakes her head. "She's probably straight anyway."

"You don't know that," Liam says. He reaches out and touches Zayn's cheek. "Women can't resist you."

Zayn snorts. "They can't resist _you_." She squeezes his upper arm. "You've got all fit."

Liam grins at her, then gives her a serious, chiding look. "We're talking about you."

Zayn pushes her hair back from her face. "She's probably straight," she says again.

"What if she's not?" Liam moves slowly toward her and puts an arm around her shoulders.

"Doesn't matter now." Zayn leans against him; he's good for leaning on. "Probably never see her again."

"You could." Liam hugs her close. "London seems huge, but you see the same people over and over again. You said she was reading. She could be at uni. You could see her again."

Zayn shakes her head. "Nah, don't think so. Just ships passing in the night."

Liam gives her a disappointed look before he stops bothering her about it.

Zayn finds herself drawing the girl's hands when she's meant to be revising.

*

Harry goes to an art do with Nick. It's some sort of undiscovered artists thing that Harry doesn't really understand - if they're undiscovered, how can they have a show? ("This is where your philosophy studies get you," Nick says.) - but she likes going to these kinds of things, and she really likes going with Nick. She likes to see how other people see the world, and she likes to drink wine and eat fancy hors d'oeuvres and listen to Nick's commentary.

She quite fancied Nick when they first met, Nick a friend of a girl Harry met in the loo of a club at midnight when they were both touching up their sparkly eyeshadow. Harry had known it wasn't going to be a thing, but she'd still said, "Not even if I buy a really good strap-on?" Nick let her down gently, and then laughed, and then she laughed and they laughed until she literally fell over, and then they kept laughing.

They've been close friends since then, and Nick's more willing to listen to Harry talk about the goddess she's not seen since the first time weeks ago.

"Buck up, Harriet," Nick says cheerfully. "Maybe you'll find someone else tonight." He waggles his eyebrows. "Plenty of fit artists here."

Harry allows herself one last sigh about the goddess, and then she sets it aside and resolves to have fun for the evening.

Nick knows loads of people, because he's Nick and also because he's Nick Grimshaw off Radio 1. They do meet a handful of fit artists, and Harry loves flirting.

They turn a corner in the weird gallery space - Harry thinks maybe it used to be a dentist's office - looking at the art, looking across the room at the other people there, and then Harry sees her and she grabs Nick's arm.

"What?"

"That's her." Harry's too polite to point, so she just tips her chin in the direction of the goddess. She can see more of her this time, when she's not hidden behind a stack of books. The goddess's hair is long, falling past her shoulders in soft waves that make her jaw seem even sharper. She has on black trousers that hug her slim hips, a white button down that shows off the slight curves of her breasts, and a long coat that falls to her knees and frames her body.

Nick lets out a low whistle. "She could cut you with that jawline."

"I know," Harry says dreamily. She's had some daydreams about that.

Then something terrible happens. Well, terrible for Harry. Wonderful for the goddess. An incredibly fit man with biceps straining the sleeves of his white t-shirt puts his arms around her. The goddess beams at him, and, well, that's that.

Zayn leans into Liam's hug. "Thank you for coming."

"Of course I came." Liam keeps his arm around her shoulders. "Show me your art."

Zayn ducks her head a bit. "You've seen it."

"Not on a wall at a fancy gallery." Liam squeezes her shoulders. "Come on, I want to see."

Zayn shows Liam her section, three paintings and two drawings hung on a white wall like she's a real artist.

"You are a real artist," Liam says when she mentions it.

Zayn turns away from her stuff on the wall to smile at him, and then she looks past him. She grabs his arm. "Liam."

"You are," he says.

"No." Zayn shakes her head. "Liam, she's here."

Liam frowns at her in confusion. "Who?"

"The girl from the cafe."

Liam smiles at her slowly. "The one you wanted to draw?"

"Yeah." Zayn still wants to draw her. She's tall, taller than Zayn, maybe even taller than Liam. Even from across the room, Zayn can see how long her fingers are, how they're covered in rings again. She's wearing a long, flowy floral dress, and Zayn both wants to draw it and wants to feel the way it brushes across her skin.

Zayn can also see the man she's with, the one whose arm she has her hands wrapped around and whose shoulder she's laughing into. Zayn shakes her head. "That's probably her boyfriend."

"Which one?" Liam turns to look. Zayn doesn't stop him because the girl isn't looking in their direction.

"In the dress," Zayn says. "The flowery one."

"The tall one?" Liam says.

"With the tall boyfriend," Zayn says mournfully.

Liam says, "Maybe he's just a mate," because he's eternally hopeful. "We could go say hi."

"No!" Zayn pulls Liam in the other direction. "We can go now."

Liam gives her a disappointed look. "Zayn, it's your show. You have to stay. We haven't seen the rest of it."

Zayn makes a face at him, although he is right. They go around the gallery, away from the girl. Zayn catches sight of her again, across the room a few times, and she doesn't stop wanting to draw her. She doesn't stop wanting to touch her.

She sees the girl leave, and she thinks, for just a moment, that the girl is looking back at her on her way out the door with the tall bloke who's probably her boyfriend. She decides it must be wishful thinking.

*

The goddess is at the cafe again. The place is packed, and Harry almost doesn't go in, but she really wants one of their biscuits. She thinks maybe she'll get it to go, but when she goes in, she sees the goddess at a table with a laptop with books on either side of it.

There aren't any free tables.

Harry gets her cup of tea and biscuit and takes it over to the goddess's table. "'Scuse me." Harry gives the goddess her best smile. "D'you mind? It's a bit busy." She waves an elbow at the crowded cafe, barely managing not to spill her tea or drop her biscuit.

The goddess stares at her for a moment too long. Then she blinks and says, "Yeah, yeah, course," in a surprisingly high, Northern voice. She pulls her laptop and books closer to her, making space for Harry.

Harry gives her a slow smile and puts her cup and plate down. "Thanks, darling."

The goddess looks down with a bashful smile. Her eyelashes are the most beautiful eyelashes Harry has ever seen.

"No problem," the goddess says, most of her vowels sliding together.

Harry takes her book out of her bag. "It's a good place to study," she says holding it up. She smiles, and she knows it makes her dimples show, and she's sure the goddess is looking at them.

"Yeah," the goddess says. Those gorgeous eyelashes sweep up and down with her blinks. "Got an essay due tomorrow."

Harry makes a sympathetic face. "I won't bother you then." She very much wants to bother her.

The goddess's eyelashes sweep down. She looks up through them with a tentative smile. "I could take a break."

Harry feels warm all from the inside out. "Yeah?" She sets her book down on the table.

The goddess's lips twitch into a bit of a smile. "Don't want to get biscuit crumbs in your book anyway."

Harry beams at her. "What's your essay about?" She gestures at the stack of books with her biscuit before she takes a bite out of it.

"Walking the streets of London." The goddess lifts a shoulder in half a shrug. "Studying English. It's a course on London in literature."

"English," Harry says. "Explains all the books."

"Yeah." The goddess reaches over and taps a finger against Harry's book. "Not like you." It's almost a question.

Harry flashes her a smile. "Philosophy major. Lots of reading, but I'm trying to read just one at a time."

The goddess smiles back at her. "Probably a good idea."

Zayn's heart beats too fast. The girl, the one she wants to draw, the one she wants to touch, is sitting at her table at the cafe and they're having a perfectly normal conversation. Her smile is beautiful. She has dimples and rounded cheeks. Zayn wants to draw her smile and her hands holding a biscuit and her teeth when she bites into it. She wants to feel those hands on her skin and those teeth biting into her lip.

The girl's at uni too. She must be clever to be studying philosophy. Or a bit mad. But that's what people say about Zayn for studying English when they see how much she's got to read.

The girl finishes her biscuit, chasing it with a sip of her tea.

Zayn swallows back her disappointment. "I should let you get on with your reading."

The girl looks disappointed too, but she rallies into a smile. "And you've got an essay to write."

Zayn nods, still disappointed. It takes her longer than usual to get back into the flow of her essay. She can feel the girl's presence. She has to make a real effort not to keep looking at her, at the soft waves of her hair, the length of her fingers.

She gets back into the flow of her essay eventually and gets some solid work done. It'll need editing later, but it always does.

When she comes out of the fog of her essay, knowing that she's reached the end of what she can do today, the girl is still there. She's put her book down, and she has her hands wrapped around her teacup. She's looking at Zayn.

The girl smiles when Zayn meets her eyes. "Philosophy," she says unapologetically. "After you do the reading, you just have to think about it for a while." She smiles at Zayn, those dimples showing again. "Did you finish your essay?"

"Not quite." Zayn saves her work and closes her laptop. "But I got enough done for today." She smiles at the girl. She thinks about asking the girl if she wants another cup of tea. The girl might have a boyfriend, but if they could be friends, Zayn could ask if she could draw her.

Then Zayn's phone goes off, rattling against the table. She grabs it up, thinking she'll turn it off, but she glances at the screen and there's a text from Liam asking where she is.

Zayn blinks at it, and then she realizes. "Shit." She frantically grabs up her laptop and books, shoving them into her bag. "Shit, I'm late."

The girl's smile has dimmed when Zayn looks at her again. It brightens just a bit, and she says, "Thank you for sharing your table."

"Yeah," Zayn says with a nod. She wants to say more, but she really is late.

*

Harry goes to the cafe on a Saturday, having been strongly urged to leave the flat by Louis on account of her "going on about a girl as if you've never seen a pretty girl before." Harry has seen plenty of pretty girls, but only one goddess.

She has one of her assigned books with her, but she thinks as it's Saturday, she might just have a biscuit and people watch. She quite likes watching people. She finds them interesting.

Then she gets to the cafe and sees the goddess alone at a table with a notebook and a cup, and there's only one person she really wants to watch.

Harry gets a cup of tea and two biscuits. She's not the most graceful of people, but she keeps hold of her cup and two plates on the way to the goddess's table without dropping anything. "Hiya."

The goddess looks up at her with the same kind of dazed, unseeing look she did the last time Harry saw her. Then a smile lights up her face. And Harry's whole world. She wants to make the goddess smile at her like that again and again.

"Hi." The goddess gestures at the chair across from her. "Do you want to sit?"

"Yeah, thanks." Harry sets down the plates and cup without spilling anything and pushes one of the plates toward the goddess. "I got you a biscuit."

The goddess looks surprised, and then she smiles shyly. "Thank you."

That's another smile Harry wouldn't mind getting out of her again and again. She smiles back and nods at the goddess's notebook. "More about walking in London?"

The goddess looks surprised that Harry remembers, and then she smiles again. "No. No revising today. Just sketching. I do art, a bit, like, not studying it."

"I saw you at an art exhibit," Harry says. Maybe she shouldn't, but she likes art. Maybe they can talk about that.

The goddess looks down a bit. "The undiscovered artists one," she says. "I saw you." She looks up at Harry from under her eyelashes. "With your boyfriend?"

That startles a laugh out of Harry. "Nick, no. He's very, very gay."

The goddess bites the corner of her lip and then says, "Me too."

Harry beams at her. "Me too. Well, I'm not sure I'd say very, very gay. I like people, not labels." She barrels on ahead, worried that might sound like a criticism. "I like you."

The goddess looks up at her from under her eyelashes. "I want-" She stops and asks a question. "Can I draw you?"

Zayn wants more than just to draw the girl she now knows is interested, but she was planning to do some sketching this afternoon, and she really wants to draw her.

"Draw me?" The girl asks with a laugh.

Zayn hunches her shoulders. "I don't have to, I mean, if you don't want."

The girl cuts her off by putting a hand on hers. "Do you want me to pose?" She strikes a pose.

"No," Zayn says, the affected pose tugging a smile out of her. "Just talk to me." She shrugs. "I like to see people in motion."

The girl sips her tea. "What do you want me to talk about?"

"Anything," Zayn says. "Where'd you grow up?"

The girl has a deep, raspy voice and a meandering way of speaking. Zayn guesses that a lot of people have told her to get to the point already. She doesn't mind; she likes the girl's voice, and she likes watching her. She talks with her hands, pinches her bottom lip between her fingers when she's thinking, smiles when she talks about her mum and her sister.

Zayn sketches in just the edges of her shirt, only one of the repeating florals so she can copy it later if she expands it. She captures the line of the girl's shoulders. It takes some work to get the wide, mobile mouth right, to show the way her hair cascades back from her face, the way the waves of it frame her.

It's not quite right, she thinks as she sketches in the girl's hands. A good first try, though, and maybe she'll get another chance.

She flips the page of her sketchpad and the girl stops talking.

"Are you finished?"

Zayn thinks she could probably draw the girl every day for the rest of her life and never be finished drawing her. "No, just want to try something else." She smiles at the girl, who blinks at her and then smiles back, her mouth going soft. "You can keep talking."

The girl resumes her slow, raspy drawl, telling Zayn about a cat she had when she was younger.

Zayn does studies: the girl's eyes, the shape of her hairline, her mouth, her hands lifting the teacup to her mouth. She falls into an almost hypnotic state where there's nothing in her consciousness but the sound of the girl's voice and the drawings of her taking shape in Zayn's sketchbook.

The girl's phone goes. She pulls it out of her bag and looks at it. "My flatmates are summoning me back."

Zayn puts down her pencil. "Thank you for letting me draw you."

The girl beams at her. "It was my pleasure." She holds out her phone. "Could I text you? Maybe we could meet up on purpose sometime."

Zayn lets a smile tug at her lips and puts her number into the girl's phone.

*

Zayn. The goddess's name is Zayn. Harry wanders about for days in a daze of delight and texting. When she asks, just shy of insisting, Zayn sends her a selfie and then Harry can lie about the flat sighing in romantic delight until Louis and Niall pay attention to her.

"Are you still on about your goddess?" Louis asks.

"Her name's Zayn," Harry says dreamily. She holds out her phone. "She sent me a picture."

"You shouldn't be showing that sort of thing around," Louis says with a smirk.

"It's not that kind of picture," Harry protests.

Louis already has her phone and his eyebrows are raised. He gives a low whistle. "Are her cheekbones better than mine?"

"Yes," Harry says.

Louis throws her a betrayed look.

"You asked." Harry swipes her phone back and holds it out to Niall.

"Have to agree with her, mate," Niall says. "How do you always pull the most gorgeous girls?"

"I haven't pulled her." Harry's engaged in a flirtation that might become a romance, not pulling someone for an evening. Not that she would object to pulling Zayn for the evening. It's only that she doesn't think one evening with Zayn would do. She wants to know everything about her. She wants to know how she thinks and what she likes and what every inch of her skin feels and tastes like.

"Haven't you?" Niall is scrolling through Harry's texts with Zayn.

"Hey, that's private." Harry grabs for her phone.

Louis gets involved, and while he's crafty, Harry still has inches and pounds on him and gets her phone back before either of her flatmates scroll through too much of her conversation with Zayn.

Harry makes sure they haven't done anything like text Zayn on her behalf before she tucks her phone away.

She flops down on the sofa and sighs again. "Zayn," she says, just because she wants to say her name, wants to feel it in her mouth, wants to hear it out loud. "Zayn."

"If you haven't pulled her," Niall says, "when are you going to?"

"I'm not going to pull her," Harry says. "I'm going to woo her." Wooing always makes her think of candlelit dinners. Then she thinks about what Zayn's face might look like in candlelight and she lets out another dreamy sigh.

Louis pokes her with his toes. "You haven't even asked her out."

"We're just getting to know each other," Harry squawks. "She looked surprised every time I was nice to her."

That melts Louis, as she knew it would, and he puts an arm around her shoulder. "You've got to woo her properly then."

"I will," Harry says. "I am."

Zayn's been texting with Harry every day, more than once a day, since she put her number into Harry's phone and got a text from an unfamiliar number later the same day that said, "Hi! It's Harry the gay enough philosophy student from the cafe," and was followed up with a selfie of Harry smiling into the camera, her hair filling the frame around her face.

She's been drawing Harry too, from memory and from the pictures Harry sends her: selfies from different angles, a mirror photo of her outfit, her hand on a book in black and white. Every page of her sketchbook since the day Harry talked and let Zayn draw her has something of Harry on it.

Liam leans over her shoulder and sets a cup of tea next to her on the table. "Harry's hands?" he guesses.

Zayn shakes her hair down so she can half hide behind it. "Yeah." She's trying to get the rings right. She needs to see them again. Study them.

Liam squeezes her shoulder. "You going to see her again?"

Zayn lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "Maybe. We both like the cafe. Might see her there again."

Liam goes around the table and sits down across from her. "You could ask her there. You have her number."

Zayn shrugs again. "She's, I don't know, the kind of person everyone looks at. I'm me." Dorky, she means. Shy and sometimes anxious and happiest when she's reading or drawing or talking about comic books.

"So, what?" Liam says. "She wears short skirts and you wear t-shirts?"

Zayn giggles. "Oh, fuck off."

Liam starts singing, which keeps Zayn in giggles for a minute longer before she joins him and they harmonize on Taylor Swift.

Liam beams at her when they get to the end of the song. "Just show her you can have fun like that." He nudges Zayn's phone, which is sitting out next to her sketchbook. "She's been texting you nonstop. You already know she likes you."

Zayn looks down at her sketchbook, at Harry's hands in pencil next to her phone where she's been texting Harry off and on all day. "I really like her," she admits. "Not just, like, I want to draw her. I like her, as, like, a person."

Liam squeezes her hand. "So ask her out."

"Maybe."

Zayn's phone buzzes with a text from Harry, and she can feel herself smiling without meaning to before she even reads it. Then she holds the phone up so Liam can read the text suggesting a "study date" at the cafe where they met. "Guess I don't have to."

Liam beams at her. "Told you she likes you."

*

Harry's never been this nervous for a date before. She waits just outside the cafe, rocking forward onto her toes and back onto her heels. Then she sees Zayn turn the corner, and it's like her whole body lights up and fizziness replaces the nervousness. Zayn's across the street with earbuds in, so Harry gets to just look at her for a minute.

She's wearing black skinny jeans with a black Batman t-shirt that stretches tight across her chest. She has on a leather jacket with it, and Vans someone - probably Zayn herself - has drawn on. Her long, black hair is pulled to one side, cascading over her shoulder. Harry doesn't know how people walking by her are just passing her by without stopping to look at her. She's gorgeous, a modern-day goddess.

Harry's nearly breathless by the time Zayn sees her and smiles, and that takes away the rest of her breath. She catches enough of it by the time Zayn crosses the street and takes out her earbuds that she can say, "Hi."

"Hi."

They smile at each other for a moment before Harry steps forward, arms open, and Zayn tips her head down with a bashful smile and accepts the hug.

Harry makes an effort to keep it to an acceptable length of time. She doesn't manage to keep from brushing a kiss across Zayn's cheek.

Zayn's lips stay turned up in a smile.

Harry holds the door for her, feeling very gallant, and insists on buying Zayn's coffee and biscuit. "You can buy next time," she says when Zayn tries to pay for herself.

"Alright," Zayn says with another one of those shy, pleased smiles.

They take a table tucked into a cosy corner, next to a wall with outlets for their laptops, where they're unlikely to be disturbed.

Harry folds her hands around her teacup. "Tell me about you."

Zayn raises her eyebrows. "What do you want to know?"

Harry bites back the "Everything" that's her first thought. "Anything," she says instead. "Where did you grow up? Are you close to your family? Do you like dogs? Do you know what you want to do after uni?"

Zayn's eyes crinkle up with a smile. "That was a lot of questions, babe."

The "babe" makes Harry warm all the way through. "I want to know a lot of things."

"I grew up in Bradford, I'm very close with my family, I love dogs, and I want to teach." Zayn bites definitively into her biscuit.

Harry grins at her. It's a start.

Harry keeps asking interested questions, and Zayn finds herself talking about her sisters, her parents, how she wants to have cats and dogs when she has a teaching job and a flat that allows them.

Zayn stretches out eating her biscuit as long as she can between answering Harry's questions. When she finishes it, she brushes crumbs off her hands. "I should get some reading done."

Harry reaches forward and touches the back of Zayn's hand. "I don't want to throw your studies off."

Zayn looks down and feels that touch all the way through her body. "Yours either."

She keeps feeling the echo of Harry's touch while she gets out her book and starts reading. Even when she gets involved in her reading, there's still a part of her mind thinking about Harry's skin against hers.

Harry has her laptop out. The soft, irregular tapping of her keys serves as a background to Zayn's reading.

Zayn gets involved in the end of the book, and the typing is irregular enough that she doesn't notice Harry's stopped until she reaches across and touches Zayn's hand again.

Zayn draws herself out of her book slowly, leaving the historical, fictional world behind for the real world in the here and now.

Harry's smiling at her, soft and gentle. "I'm getting more tea. Do you want another coffee? Or tea?"

Zayn picks up her cup; she's finished her coffee without noticing it. "Another coffee?"

Harry strokes her thumb over the back of Zayn's wrist. "Course."

Zayn watches Harry go to the counter, feeling that touch spread all through her. Harry smiles and laughs with the barista, and looks back while she's waiting for their drinks to smile at Zayn, a more private smile.

Zayn smiles back, the corners of her mouth turning up without her conscious thought.

Harry smiles brighter, and only turns back when the barista brings her their drinks.

"One coffee for you." Harry ceremoniously sets the coffee down in front of Zayn.

"Thanks." Zayn curls her hands around the cup and inhales the steam. Now that her concentration's been broken, she'd rather talk to Harry than go back to her book. Or at least look at her. "How's your," she gestures at Harry's laptop, "going?"

Harry gives an easy, loose shrug. "Alright." Her dimples show and deepen with a smile. "Might be easier without the distraction of a gorgeous girl across the table." There's a self-satisfied sort of air to the teasing.

Zayn bites her lip and screws up the courage to look out from under her eyelashes and ask, "Is this a study date or a date date?"

Harry touches her hand again, those long fingers against Zayn's skin. "Bit of both, I'd hoped."

"Yeah." Zayn turns her hand over to tangle her fingers with Harry's. "Me too."

*

Harry waits outside the station for Zayn, her eyes scanning the street to catch the first glimpse of her. She's wearing comfortable shoes, and she double- and then triple-checked that she had her Oyster card with her. The Tube was not what she was expecting when Zayn invited her to go for a walk with her, but she's not the one writing about walking in London, so she's trusting Zayn on this one.

Zayn comes dashing across the street, the open flannel shirt she's wearing over a t-shirt flapping behind her. "Shit, I'm late," Zayn gasps out. "Come on." She grabs Harry's hand, and they dash into the station, swiping their cards and clattering down to the platform.

They make it onto a train. Zayn lets go of Harry's hand, which is too bad.

"Is it always like this with you?" Harry asks. She's teasing a bit. And smiling because Zayn held her hand and they're swaying gently on the Tube on the way to Zayn only knows where.

"No." Zayn pushes her hair back from one side of her face. "Well, a little bit. I'm usually running late, but not usually _running_ late."

Harry laughs, and Zayn smiles at her, that gorgeous mouth tilting up and the slightest crinkles showing at the edges of her eyes. Those eyes dip, looking Harry up and down.

Harry preens under the look. She's wearing loose, checked trousers with a dark blue shirt open halfway down her chest. The trousers are men's, so she has her wallet and phone with her without having to carry a purse, in contrast to Zayn who has a bag slung across her body.

Zayn looks up at Harry's face, and then ducks her head, fiddling with the strap of her bag.

Harry puts her hand over Zayn's. "I like you looking at me," she says. She rubs the back of Zayn's hand and lets go.

Zayn looks up from under her eyelashes and smiles sweet and soft. "Good thing I brought my sketchbook then."

Harry taps Zayn's bag. "Oh, is that what you've got in there? I thought you English types were always carrying around books."

"Nah," Zayn says. "Not today." She tucks her hair back. "I've got you to entertain me."

"I hope I don't disappoint," Harry says. She's being cheeky, and she likes the way Zayn smiles back at her.

"Don't think you could," Zayn says. She reaches out and takes Harry's hand again.

Harry beams at her, and then tells her a slow, rambling story about one of her lectures that would have made Louis tell her to get on with it. Zayn just listens, still smiling at Harry, until they get off the Tube.

Zayn holds Harry's hand as she leads her out of the station and toward the river. They're wandering slowly, talking as they go.

Harry lights up when they reach the river. "Now I see why we took the Tube to take a walk."

Zayn grins, happy to see Harry so happy. She pulls her to the wall separating the path from the river. They lean against it and watch the water go by.

"Wow," Harry says. She turns a bright smile on Zayn, her dimples deep and her eyes sparkling. "This is a good date."

Zayn lets go of the tension she hadn't realized she was holding. It's kind of a dorky date idea, and it fits in with her studies. She wasn't sure Harry would like it.

There are boats on the river, people rowing by. Harry leans over the wall and waves at every boat full of people with as much enthusiasm as any child. It's wholly endearing. Zayn is wholly endeared.

Harry turns her smile on Zayn. It turns softer when she meets Zayn's eyes. She brings her hand up to Zayn's cheek. Zayn leans into it, one of those large hands against her skin. She closes her eyes and leans toward Harry.

Their lips meet in a gentle kiss. Zayn leans into it, leans into Harry, feeling Harry's other arm come around her and Harry's generous breasts against her smaller ones. They stay very close when the kiss ends. Harry tucks Zayn's hair back from her face, leaving only Harry's hair blowing around them in the slight breeze off the water.

Zayn feels wanted and delicate in ways she doesn't usually. She blinks, takes in a breath, brushes her lips over Harry's. She smiles up at Harry, brushes Harry's hair back in turn.

"Come on." She slides her hand down to take Harry's. "I did mean for this to be a walk."

They wander slowly along the path.

"I should come here more often." Harry sweeps her hair back with her free hand. "It's lovely."

Zayn looks out at the river. "It is." She stops them and pushes Harry up against the wall while she fumbles her phone out of her bag. "Stand there." She steps back, getting in the way of a family walking along and apologizing, until she has Harry and the river framed in her camera. She snaps three pictures, one of Harry smiling, one of Harry's hair blowing across her face, one of Harry laughing while she pushes her hair back.

Harry snags the phone from her when she steps closer, and pulls her in with an arm around her waist. They both smile into it, Harry's dimples and Zayn's sharper angles. Harry snaps the selfie, and texts it to herself before she hands Zayn's phone back.

Harry takes Zayn's hand after she puts her phone away, and they keep walking along the river.

*

"Alright," Louis says. "That's an end to this."

Harry frowns at him. "An end to what?" She can't imagine what Louis wants to end. Harry's been happy as anything since her walk with Zayn, and she's been smiling and cheerful at Louis and Niall all week.

Louis points at her. "An end to you going on about this goddess of yours without introducing me."

"And me," Niall puts in. He reaches over Louis's shoulder and snags a handful of crisps from Louis's bag, grinning unrepentantly when Louis squawks a protest. "If you're going to marry her and have her babies, we'd better get to know her now."

Harry frowns. "I haven't asked if she wants kids."

"Do that before you marry her," Louis advises. "And before that, introduce her to us."

Harry makes a face at him. "What if you scare her off?" They've done that before, and sometimes it's even been useful.

"Look at it this way," Louis says expansively, "would you really want to marry someone and have a million babies with them if they could be scared off by us?"

"Not a million," Harry says. "Just two. Or three. Maybe four."

"That's the spirit," Louis says, because he has the same kind of plans for a large family Harry does.

"You won't try to scare her off, will you?" Harry says. "I really like her. I think she's still surprised about it."

Louis heaves a dramatic sigh. "You're ruining all our fun."

"Not mine," Niall says. "I wasn't going to try to scare her off."

Louis wraps an arm around Harry's shoulders. He has to pull her down a bit for it to work. "We'll be nice to her. Proper nice, too."

Harry leans against him. "Please do. I really, really like her."

Louis ruffles her hair. "You'll be planning a wedding in no time."

Harry sighs dreamily and thinks about that. A wedding. Her and Zayn standing up together in front of all their family and friends, promising to love each other forever. A house or a flat together. Having kids someday. Growing old together. Harry sighs again.

Then she doubles over when Louis jabs her with a very sharp finger. "Ow!"

"Tough love," Louis says unrepentantly. "Get your head out of the clouds and text her to come meet us."

"Not tonight," Niall says. "Some mates are coming over to watch footie."

"Friday," Harry suggests. "Somewhere quiet, like that pub we went to. You remember, when Louis was wearing that hat, and you went home with the waitress."

"Yeah, yeah," Louis cuts in. "We remember it. Just get your goddess there."

Zayn wanders out from her bedroom, looking down at the text on her phone. When she gets to where Liam is revising at the table, she shoves the phone between him and his notes.

Liam leans back a little, and takes the phone from her to read it. Then he hands it back to Zayn. "Cool."

Zayn slumps down into the chair across from him. "She wants me to meet her friends. Her friends want to meet me."

"Who wouldn't want to meet you?" Liam says loyally. "You're great."

Zayn shrugs a shoulder. "What if they don't like me?" She turns her phone over and over between her hands. "I'm not good with, like, new people."

"They like Harry," Liam points out, "and Harry likes you. I'm sure they'll like you."

Zayn puts her head down on the table. She really regrets trying to quit smoking again; she could use a cigarette. "They might hate me and then Harry will hate me."

"They're not going to hate you," Liam says. He strokes her hair, which feels nice. It would be really nice to have Harry doing it instead.

Zayn sighs. He's probably right. And she should text Harry back sometime soon so Harry doesn't think she doesn't want to meet her friends.

She lifts her head and looks at Liam. "D'you want to come?"

"Yes," Liam says, almost before she's finished the question. He turns a little red. "I mean, if it's okay. I didn't want to ask in case it wasn't. I want to meet Harry too."

"You do?"

"Of course I do," Liam says. "You're head over heels for her."

Zayn smiles, ducking her head a little. "You'll like her." She opens her text thread with Harry.

Harry texts her back so quickly Zayn feels bad for making her wait. Harry has a pub picked out, and she sends hearts and smiley faces with a promise that it'll be chill.

"She wants to meet you too," Zayn reports to Liam when Harry tells her that.

Liam beams at her. "Good. I'm really excited."

Zayn gives over to his enthusiasm. "It'll be a good night, yeah?"

*

Harry sits facing the door, drumming her fingers against the table while she waits for Zayn to get there. Or she does until Louis puts his hand over hers and stops her.

"I thought you were bad at home."

Harry makes a face at him. "I'm not bad, I'm excited."

"And impatient," Niall puts in with a laugh.

Harry ignores it, because the door to the pub opens and Zayn comes through it. She's wearing black skinny jeans, boots, a white t-shirt that stretches tight over her breasts, and a black denim jacket with the sleeves rolled up. Harry wants to just give herself over to Zayn to do what she wants with her.

She restrains herself to greeting Zayn with a kiss just a bit too eager for the occasion.

"Hi, babe," Zayn murmurs when Harry lets her mouth free enough to talk.

"Hi." Harry beams at her.

The polite cough from behind Zayn shifts their attention.

"This is Harry," Zayn says, turning and stepping to the side. The guy she was with at the art reception is standing behind her. "Harry, this is Liam."

"Nice to meet you," Harry says. She shakes Liam's hand. "Come meet my flatmates." She puts her hand on Zayn's back and guides them over to the table. There's the slightest upward curve to Zayn's mouth.

Harry introduces Zayn and Liam to Niall and Louis, and sends Louis off to get the first round. Better to let them ease into meeting Louis.

Harry sits on the inside of the booth, Zayn next to her, Liam on the other side of Zayn, Niall and Louis across from them. She loses the advantage of seeing Zayn's face full on this way, but she gets the advantage of Zayn's thigh pressed to hers, gets to look at Zayn's profile, gets to feel it every time Zayn shifts.

Zayn smiles shyly and dips her eyelashes every time she catches Harry looking at her. It only makes Harry want to kiss her and tell her how gorgeous she is until she accepts that the way Harry looks at her is exactly what she deserves.

They're having a perfectly polite conversation when Louis comes back with drinks. He thunks them on the table, drops himself into a chair, and leans forward. "So what do you two," he gestures between Zayn and Liam, "have in common?"

Zayn sits back against the back of the booth, arms crossed over her chest. Liam frowns.

"Louis," Harry says with a huff. "You said you weren't going to try to scare them away."

Louis waves away her concern. "I'm not. Just trying to get to know them. Come on, then, what is it? Are you doing the same course? Do you breed geckos? Are you both secretly aliens here to colonize Earth?"

Niall laughs, there's a smile tugging at Zayn's lips, and Liam's look is the bemused one Harry has seen on many a face when faced with Louis.

Zayn had braced herself for an interrogation - she knows the kind of things she would want to ask anyone Liam brought to meet her - but Louis's question is not what she was expecting.

"Do people breed geckos?" Liam asks.

Louis blinks, and recovers quickly. "They sell them as, like, pets, so they must."

"How does that even work?" Liam wonders.

Louis waves a hand. "Not the point. Unless it's what brought the two of you together."

"No," Liam says slowly. He turns to look at Zayn.

Zayn's fingers twitch for a cigarette. She shrugs one shoulder. If she's going to go on more dates with Harry - and she very much wants to - they're all going to have to get to know each other.

Liam turns back to Louis. "Comic books, superheroes, that kind of thing."

Louis narrows his eyes at both of them. "Marvel or DC?"

"Oh, here we go," Niall says with a quirk of a grin on his face.

Liam says, "Marvel," just as Zayn says, "DC."

Louis groans. "How can you say DC? X-Men. Avengers. _Spider-Man_."

"Batman," Zayn counters. She wishes she had a cigarette to point at him for emphasis. "Superman. Superman ushered in the Golden Age."

"Lone vigilantes," Louis says. "And just because it's first doesn't mean it's the best."

"I don't see why you can't appreciate both of them," Harry muses. She looks entirely earnest, not like she's trying to be a peacemaker. "They're different, but that doesn't have to mean one of them is better than the other."

"Yes, thank you, philosopher in our midst," Louis says. His eyes are sparkling and mischievous in contrast to the sneer that could be in his words.

"There's more than one way to look at things," Harry says, grinning at him. Now it has the feel of a well-worn conversation, like when Zayn and Liam engage in the Marvel vs. DC debate at home.

"They both have their good points," Louis concedes with a sigh. He raises his eyebrows at Zayn and Liam.

"Cheers, mate," Liam says.

Zayn raises her glass in his direction. She takes a drink, then says, "What brought the three of you together?"

"Louis's my platonic soulmate," Harry says.

Louis's smile at her is pure sunshine. "And Niall's the loveliest person we know."

"We were the only people not in, related to, or shagging the band at a show at the worst pub I've ever been to," Niall says. There's a fond smile on his face at the recollection.

"And Niall's been to a lot of awful pubs," Harry says with a giggle. She takes Zayn's hand in hers. "Be glad I didn't let him choose one for tonight."

Zayn bumps her shoulder against Harry's. "Probably would've risked a dodgy pub if you wanted."

It gets Harry to beam at her, like she hoped it might, and lean forward to kiss her. It's nice, and so is sitting around the pub getting to know her friends.

*

Liam is the one to let Harry into the flat, after Zayn buzzes her into the building and tells her to come up.

"Hey," Liam says, meeting her with a half hug that's careful not to crush the rose she's carrying. "Zayn's still getting ready."

Harry smiles at that. "I'm learning I don't always need to be on time with her."

Liam shakes his head. "She's always late." He gestures at the sofa.

Harry sits and chats with him for a few minutes - classes and the weather, mostly - until she hears Zayn's boots on the floorboards. Then she stands and turns so she can greet Zayn.

"Shit, sorry," Zayn says. She's pulling her leather jacket on over a black and white striped button down that she's wearing with slim black trousers and her boots. Her hair is tucked back on one side and loose over her shoulder on the other. She looks up at Harry and stops, her mouth making a silent o.

Harry smiles at her. "For you." She holds out the single red rose she brought.

Zayn's eyes go wide. "Oh."

"I didn't know what kind of flowers you like," Harry says, "and roses are a classic, so." She smiles because she doesn't know what else to do with Zayn.

Zayn steps closer, and cups her hands around Harry's. "Oh," she says again. She uses their cupped hands to bring the rose up to her face to smell it.

Harry almost wishes Zayn weren't holding her hand so she could take a picture of Zayn with the rose against her face.

"No one's ever brought me flowers before," Zayn says, which is a tragedy. She gives Harry that shy smile of hers, the one where she looks up from under her eyelashes. "Thank you."

Harry steps closer to Zayn, nearly falling onto the sofa as she leans over the back of it to kiss Zayn sweet and soft.

Zayn licks her lips after, and smiles at Harry. "Thank you," she says again. She steps away, and Harry watches her go to the kitchen and find a tall, thin glass to put the rose in. She brushes the petals with her fingers and leans in to smell it before she turns back to Harry.

Harry beams at her and holds out her hand. "Ready for dinner?"

Zayn pats her pockets, then nods and comes over to take Harry's hand.

They say goodbye to Liam and walk out of the flat hand in hand.

The flower Harry brought Zayn was romantic, and so is holding hands on the way to dinner. They take the Tube, separating only to swipe their Oyster cards, and end up at a small restaurant with lush carpeting and candles on the tables.

After she puts down her menu, Zayn looks around at the other tables, which are almost all occupied by couples. It's the most romantic date she's ever been on, and she says as much to Harry.

Harry reaches across the table and takes her hand. "I wanted it to be romantic. You deserve romance." She frowns a bit. "I mean, if you like it. I don't know if you like this."

Zayn squeezes Harry's hand. "I do. Girls aren't usually, like, romantic with me." It feels like a big thing to say. It feels like a really big thing to say to someone she's just getting to know.

Harry's frown gets deeper. "I don't know why not. I want to be romantic with you."

Zayn shrugs. "Guess I'm not the dainty, delicate type."

"That's rubbish," Harry says. "You don't have to be dainty or delicate to be romanced."

Zayn ducks her head. "Don't think most people agree with you there, babe."

"They should," Harry says mulishly. "Everyone deserves romance." She reaches across the table and takes Zayn's other hand too. "And I want to be the one to give it to you."

Zayn smiles at their joined hands. Then she decides that she knows Harry's interested in her and she wants to lighten the moment, so she quirks her eyebrows at Harry. "You want to give it to me?" She puts a suggestive note into the question.

Harry's eyes widen, and then she collapses into giggles. "I do," she says, grinning back at Zayn. She brings one of Zayn's hands up to her lips and kisses the back of it. It's ridiculously romantic. "I also want to woo you properly."

That's as direct a declaration of intentions as anyone's ever given Zayn. She brings Harry's hand up and brushes a kiss across the back of it. "Long as I get to do some wooing too."

Harry's eyes sparkle in the candlelight. "Good to know you want to give it to me too."

Zayn giggles. "Oh, I want that." She pulls one of her hands back so she can stroke her fingers across Harry's palm.

Harry smiles at her with her tongue between her teeth and her dimples showing. "We're going to have the best time."

*

Harry brings Zayn a small bouquet of carnations when Zayn invites her over for dinner. She's wearing her favorite checked men's trousers with a white shirt that she's left open down to her sternum. The carnations are red, white, and pink, and Harry's tied a red ribbon around the plastic they come in.

Zayn's already smiling when she answers the door. It goes soft and gooey when she sees the flowers. She reaches out for Harry, drawing her in and kissing her so softly it almost makes Harry cry.

"Thank you." Zayn takes the flowers as she draws away and lets Harry into her flat.

Harry beams at her. "You're welcome." She brushes a finger over the edge of a petal. "I thought you might like the lines of them."

Zayn looks from her to the flowers, and everything about her softens again. "Yeah." She stares at the flowers for a moment, then looks up at Harry. "Might draw them later."

Harry follows Zayn into the kitchen where Zayn puts the flowers in water before stirring something on the stove. Zayn's wearing simple clothes, black jeans artfully torn at the knees, black t-shirt, bare feet, hair pulled up into a low ponytail.

Zayn turns to Harry, leans against the counter next to the stove, and looks Harry up and down. Harry pulls her shoulders back, tucks her hair back behind one ear, and enjoys the feeling of Zayn's eyes on her.

Zayn turns away to stir the thing on the stove, then she puts the spoon down and crosses the kitchen. She slides her hands around Harry's waist to her back, coming closer as she does it until they're pressed together, so Harry can feel Zayn's breasts against hers. This close, when Zayn looks down, Harry knows she's looking down her shirt at her breasts and lacy bra.

"Like what you see?"

Zayn gives an embarrassed chuckle and tucks her head against Harry's shoulder.

Harry kisses Zayn's temple. "I like you looking at me," she reminds her.

Zayn looks up at her. "Yeah?" She dips her head, brazenly looking down Harry's shirt.

"Yeah." Harry's voice goes deep and husky. She's very conscious of the fact that Zayn is making her dinner. If it weren't for that, she would slide her hands down to Zayn's arse and move things along.

Zayn tips her head up and kisses Harry. It's a kiss full of subdued heat. It doesn't make Harry want Zayn any less or any urgently, but it's calm enough that she can wait.

Zayn presses her lips together when she pulls back, like she's savoring it. "Dinner," she says, a reminder to them both.

"Right." Harry nods firmly. "Dinner. Wooing and romance."

Zayn laughs and steps all the way across the kitchen to the stove.

Harry enjoys Zayn's culinary efforts, and insists on helping tidy up after, which makes it go faster. It's easy and companionable, domestic.

They take their drinks to the sofa, where they keep talking for a bit, moving closer to each other. Zayn's eyes keep dropping to the glimpses of Harry's breasts through the open neck of her shirt.

Harry's the first one to put her drink down. "Come here." She tugs at Zayn's wrist until they're right up next to each other, and then she puts her arms around Zayn and kisses her.

They snog for a while. It's good. Harry kisses lushly, extravagantly, like they have all the time in the world. When Zayn presses forward, sharper, harder, Harry takes that too.

Somehow they end up lying on the sofa, Zayn on her back with Harry over her. Zayn feels like she's buzzing, every nerve ending lit up. Harry keeps mouthing at Zayn's neck, coming back to her mouth to kiss her like she's drinking her in. Harry's thigh is between hers, and Zayn can't stop herself from pushing into it.

Harry nips at Zayn's neck, bites her way up Zayn's jaw. "Do you want to take this to your bedroom?"

Zayn's heart beats double-time. "Um."

Harry pulls back, brow furrowed. "Is that too fast? We don't have to if you don't want to."

Zayn presses her face into Harry's shoulder. "I do want to," she says, not sure if she's even being loud enough for Harry to hear her. "I started my period yesterday."

"Oh." Harry's lips press against Zayn's temple, which is comforting. "We don't have to do anything you don't want, but if you want it, I still want to make you feel good." She pushes her thigh down between Zayn's legs. "We could, like this?"

Zayn sucks in a breath. It feels so good, and Harry looks so earnest and sincere.

"Yeah?" Harry murmurs. "You want?"

"Yeah." Zayn arches up. "Yeah, come on." She wraps her arms around Harry, gripping the loose cloth of her shirt.

"Yeah." Harry mouths at her jaw, skimming her lips over the line of it. "You're so hot. Wanted to touch you the first time I saw you." She works her hips, rubbing her thigh between Zayn's.

"Me too," Zayn confesses. "Your hands. Those long fingers."

Harry moans. She puts one of her hands under Zayn's t-shirt, runs it up her body to cup her breast.

Zayn arches her whole body into Harry's touch with a gasp. It feels so good. So good.

They move together, rubbing up against each other fully clothed like teenagers. It's good enough to make Zayn forget any cause there might be for embarrassment.

Harry makes Zayn come first, and Zayn makes her come after, and when Harry smiles at her, eyes bright and face pink, after, it feels like the best thing ever.

*

"Stop," Louis moans when Harry can no longer contain herself and starts belting out "Today Was A Fairytale" for the third time. "We get it, you got laid."

"Louis," Harry says, scandalized, "don't be gross. It's not like that."

"So you didn't shag your goddess?" Niall asks.

Harry is very torn between insisting they treat Zayn with all possible respect and wanting to tell them all about how hot it was to have Zayn under her on the sofa. "I didn't say that," she hedges.

Louis looks just as torn as Harry feels. "I don't know if I want to hear the details," he says. "On the one hand, girl-on-girl." He gives Harry an exaggerated leer. "On the other hand, I've seen you hooking up more than enough."

In Harry's defense, it's difficult to remember things like doors and locks in the heat of the moment.

"Hey," she says.

Louis flashes her a mischievous grin. "Was it everything you hoped it would be?"

Harry gives a very dignified sniff. "I'm not going to tell you about it. It's private."

"Sure," Niall says. He elbows Louis. "You know she's going to tell us everything next time she's drunk."

It's not an entirely unfair or unlikely prediction. Harry pouts at them regardless.

Louis laughs, and then he puts his arm around her for a cuddle. "This mean we're going to see her around more?"

"I hope so." Harry's hands flutter about a bit. "I like her so much. She _cooked_ for me, and it was amazing, and I love talking to her, and I just want to, like, walk around holding her hand and letting her draw me and bring her flowers."

"And hook up," Louis says practically.

Harry gets lost in the dream of it and forgets her determination to keep everything private. "I want to taste every millimeter of her skin." She sighs, thinking about how Zayn's mouth and neck tasted and how there's so much more of her she hasn't gotten her hands or mouth on yet. Her breasts, smaller than Harry's but well-defined under her shirts. Her stomach. Her hips. Her thighs. Between her thighs.

Harry sighs dreamily. "She's so perfect."

Louis shakes his head and kisses Harry's temple. "The crash out of the honeymoon phase is going to be a hard one."

Harry frowns at him. "Hey."

Louis smacks another kiss to her temple. "She's a DC person. She can't be perfect."

No amount of pouting on Harry's part convinces him to take it back.

Zayn misses a lecture and has to ask one of her classmates for the notes because she gets so caught up in alternately staring out the window replaying her date with Harry and trying to capture the way Harry looked over her on paper that she loses track of time.

"Did you skive off class today?" Liam asks when he comes home and finds her still sitting where she was when he left in the morning.

Zayn closes her sketchbook - she usually doesn't mind Liam seeing her drawings, but Harry on top of her on the sofa is something she doesn't want to share, not yet, and not without Harry's permission - and shrugs a little ruefully. "Didn't mean to. I just got caught up." She waves a hand around.

"Thinking about your date?" Liam asks with a truly comical eyebrow wiggle.

Zayn tips her head back. "Yes," she admits without looking at him.

"When's your next date?"

"Haven't set one yet." Zayn keeps looking up at their ceiling. Maybe she should paint it with a mural.

Liam puts on the kettle. "She still texting you?"

"Yeah." Zayn looks down at her phone, where she and Harry have been texting off and on all day.

"That's good." Liam gives her a cheesy thumbs-up.

Zayn makes a face at him, but gives in and smiles. "Yeah, think so." She fidgets with her phone and the pen she was using to draw with. "I like her so much."

Liam brings her a cup of tea and hugs her. "She likes you too. I could tell when I met her."

Zayn puts down her phone and her pen to wrap her hands around her cup. "You liked her, right?"

Liam nods as he drinks his tea. "I liked her and her friends." He nudges her shoulder with his. "I like how happy she makes you."

Zayn smiles and looks down into her tea, and then across to the carnations on the end table. "Yeah," she says softly. She puts down her tea, picks up her phone, and texts Harry to find out when she's next free. Then she puts her phone down and drinks her tea while she waits for Harry to text her back.

She's not waiting long, and Harry's response makes her nudge Liam with her elbow. "Wanna hang out with Harry and her flatmates?"

"Now?" Liam puts his tea down and takes out his phone. "I have an assignment due tomorrow that I need to finish."

"Friday," Zayn says.

"I'm free on Friday."

Zayn texts Harry back that they'll be there on Friday, and delights in the row of heart-eyes Harry sends back.

*

Harry flutters around tidying up on Friday.

"You can't really be that nervous," Louis says. "You've already pulled her. You know she likes you."

"I know," Harry says, frowning at the drape of the blanket over the back of the sofa. "I still want to make it nice for her." Maybe she should run out and get some flowers.

Louis wraps his arms around her and pulls her down onto the sofa, bunching up the blanket. "Calm down, Harriet. The flat's never been this clean."

Harry pokes Louis in the side. "That's because I live with you."

Louis catches her hand so she can't poke him again. "She already likes you."

Niall comes out of his room and looks at both of them on the sofa. "Are we holding Harry down so she doesn't hoover us up?"

Louis laughs.

"Hey." Harry pouts, until Niall collapses on top of her and Louis, squishing them into the sofa. She sputters and pushes at him.

The three of them tussle, making a mess out of the blanket, until Harry's phone buzzes with Zayn's text that she's there.

Harry flails her way out of the pile of her flatmates and buzzes Zayn and Liam into the building. She shakes out her hair and runs her hands through it to pull it back into place.

Zayn smiles when Harry opens the door, and it makes her even more beautiful. "Hi."

"Hi." Harry beams at her and pulls her into the flat where she can kiss her. It goes on a little long.

"Honestly, Harriet," Louis says. He pushes her and Zayn out of the doorway. "Come in," he says to Liam.

"Thanks," Liam sounds amused, and he looks it too when Harry breaks away from Zayn enough to look at him.

"We're ordering pizza," Louis says. "You can argue for your favorite toppings."

Harry giggles into Zayn's shoulder. "He means the arguing." She keeps an arm around Zayn while she takes her into the flat. Zayn's wearing loose jeans and a too-large hoodie that makes Harry want to burrow into her arms and cuddle with her forever.

They cuddle through pizza and Louis's needling at Liam to get him to loosen up. Harry's leaning back against Zayn's chest, Zayn's arm draped across her collarbones holding her close, when Louis eyes up Liam and Zayn and asks, "Do you smoke?"

Liam shakes his head, and Zayn says, "I'm quitting. Again."

Harry tips her head up and kisses Zayn's chin.

Louis eyes them again, and then pulls out a joint from who knows where. "Smoke?"

Harry widens her eyes at him. She gets the vibe that Zayn won't object, but she doesn't know Liam well enough to predict what he'll think.

"Yes," Zayn says promptly.

Liam nods more slowly. "Yeah, sometimes."

"Tonight?" Louis wiggles the joint back and forth.

Liam smiles. "Yeah, let's do it."

Zayn knows her limits, and she smokes just enough to get a little relaxed and hazy. Harry, it turns out, gets tactile when she's stoned. She keeps putting her hands on Zayn, over and under her hoodie, and it's like she can't stop kissing Zayn.

Zayn has no objections to any of it. Kissing Harry feels as good as it ever does, better maybe with how relaxed she is. Harry's lips are so full, and they feel so good on Zayn's. Every touch sends a pulse of warm heat through her.

"Hey!" They're jostled by Louis shoving at Harry. "You have a room."

He has a point; Harry's hands are under Zayn's hoodie and shirt, and Zayn's pushed Harry's not entirely buttoned shirt open enough that anyone even glancing at her will get a good view of her breasts.

Harry's eyes are blown wide when she drags her head up from kissing her way down Zayn's neck. She smiles, like Zayn's the best thing she's ever seen. "I do have a room," she says very slowly.

Zayn giggles. "Why are we still here?"

"Dunno," Harry says thoughtfully.

Zayn runs her hand through Harry's hair to bring her attention back to her. "Let's go." She does take the time to button up one more of Harry's buttons before Harry takes her by the hand and leads her to her bedroom.

Zayn doesn't spend any time looking around, because Harry drops down onto her back on the bed. Her hair makes a halo around her, and her shirt stretches over her breasts and threatens to come unbuttoned again.

Zayn kneels over Harry, smiling down at her and watching Harry smile up at her. Her fingers are clumsy on the buttons of Harry's shirt. She pushes the sides apart when she has it open. Harry's breasts are so perfectly full under a lacy bra. Zayn leans over and kisses down between them.

Harry's hands touch her face, those long fingers on Zayn's cheeks. "Your cheekbones," she says wonderingly. "I want to cut my thighs on them."

Zayn nods, because that's where she was going. "Okay."

"Wow," Harry says when Zayn kisses her way down to Harry's hips, when she unbuttons Harry's trousers, when she pulls Harry's pants down with them.

She spreads Harry open and licks and licks and licks. Harry's wet, swollen, fragrant under her mouth. The buzz of Zayn's high makes Harry's cunt under her tongue feel like the most extravagant thing that could ever exist. She doesn't want to stop, even after she makes Harry come, and she keeps going until Harry pushes her face away with a weak moan and says, "Come up here and sit on my face."

That part is amazing too, and so is the part after that where they lie in bed for forever just touching.

*

Harry lets the bottle of wine in its bag dangle from her wrist while she greets Zayn with a kiss.

Zayn fidgets with her hair. "Is this okay?" She gestures down at her outfit. She's wearing tight black jeans, a Batman t-shirt with a white button down open over it, and Vans.

"You look amazing." Harry means every bit of it. In fact, Zayn looks so good that she's momentarily tempted to push Zayn back into her flat, all the way back into her bedroom, and forget going to Nick's.

Zayn twitches the edges of her open shirt. "You sure it's okay?" She eyes Harry. "It's nothing like what you're wearing."

Harry's wearing a short, flowy, floral dress and chunky heels, and she knows that both of them will fit right in at Nick's. "It's perfect." Harry takes Zayn's hand and pulls her out into the corridor.

Zayn looks at her skeptically, but she locks the door to the flat and lets Harry take her to Nick's.

Nick answers the door with a shouted, "Harriet!" He flings his arms around Harry.

Harry laughs and returns the hug. "Nicholas."

Nick smacks a kiss on Harry's cheek. "Come in, come in." He looks past her at Zayn and holds out a hand. "You must be Harry's goddess. I'm Nick."

Zayn shakes Nick's hand and raises her eyebrows at Harry. "Goddess?"

Harry shrugs a little ruefully. "It's what I thought when I first saw you."

Zayn's face does that thing where it goes soft and she looks surprised that anyone would think about her that way.

Harry shoves the bag with the bottle of wine at Nick. "That's for you." She takes Zayn's face in her hands and kisses her slowly.

Nick laughs. "Come through when you're done."

Harry flaps a hand at him, and barely registers his laughter fading farther into the flat while she kisses Zayn.

Zayn's eyelashes are fluttering down when Harry pulls away from her. She smiles, a small private thing. Harry almost wants to just keep looking at her all night. Almost.

"Come on." Harry takes Zayn's hand. "Come meet everyone."

"Everyone" covers a lot of people; it's one of those gatherings at Nick's where all of his friends are spread all over the flat with drinks and music and laughter. They all smile at Zayn and gently tease Harry for how she keeps looking at Zayn and holding her hand.

She loses Zayn at some point, though, which is okay because there are a lot of cool people there and she's sure Zayn's found someone to talk to while Harry gets pulled into conversation and selfies with Pixie and Daisy.

Once she gets separated from Harry, Zayn edges around the party until she finds a door to the garden. It's quieter out there, just a couple of people smoking. She bums a cigarette and a light off one of them and uses it as an excuse to stay outside for a bit. She'll quit again tomorrow.

The cigarette helps to settle her nerves a bit; she bums another one off the next group to come outside to smoke.

She looks through the window at the party. She can see Harry, laughing with a group of women across the room. Zayn aches to draw her, to touch her, just as much as the first time she saw Harry. She should have brought her sketchbook. Or a regular book.

There are too many people here for her. Too many people she doesn't know. Too many people Harry fits perfectly with and Zayn doesn't fit with at all.

The cigarettes aren't helping as much as she'd like them to, and Zayn hasn't seen anyone with a joint. She drains her drink and thinks about getting another one. But that would mean going back into the party.

She bums a third cigarette off someone who hasn't seen her smoke the first two.

"There you are!" Harry pushes the door shut behind her and crowds onto the lounge chair with Zayn. "Hi."

Zayn keeps her cigarette in her mouth instead of letting Harry kiss her.

Harry nudges her with her knee. "Are you having fun?"

Zayn shrugs. "Not really my scene."

Harry's smile droops. "Oh." She looks at Zayn, who avoids her eyes, and at the cigarette. "Do you want to leave? We can go."

Zayn shakes her head. "You don't have to leave."

Harry rests her head on Zayn's shoulder. "If you're not having fun, we should go."

Zayn heaves a sigh and ashes her cigarette. "This is your scene," she says. She gestures at the whole thing, the party and the few people in the garden pretending not to listen to them. "All these people, you, you're all cool, and I'm not, and you're going to figure that out sooner or later anyway."

Harry draws away from her with a shocked breath. "Zayn," she says, all trembly, "that's not true. You're cool."

"I'm not," Zayn stubs out the cigarette and turns to look at Harry. "This isn't my scene. I like sitting at home alone reading or drawing or whatever. I don't want to be surrounded by a ton of people who are all shouting at once. I don't want to be here."

Harry's eyes are wet with tears. "Zayn."

Zayn shakes her head. She's hurting Harry and herself and she knows it and she keeps going despite that. "I'm leaving. You stay."

*

Harry gets absolutely plastered, cries herself to sleep in Nick's bed, and wakes up feeling utterly miserable. She cries some more in the shower, drinks the cup of tea Nick makes her, and slumps home in jeans, t-shirt, and hoodie borrowed from Nick.

"Harriet!" Louis crows when she gets home. Then he looks at her and yells, "Niall, get out here." He opens his arms up to Harry. "What happened?"

Harry starts crying again, cries all over Louis's hoodie, and Niall's t-shirt when he joins them and cuddles in on her other side.

"You have to tell us what happened, darling," Louis says when she's mostly cried out for now.

Telling them about it, about the party and how she thought it was great right up until Zayn was upset and how Zayn left without her, sets her off crying again.

"That bitch," Louis says savagely.

Harry shakes her head. "She isn't. She really isn't. She's lovely and perfect and now she hates me." She bursts into fresh tears.

"She hurt you," Louis says stubbornly.

Harry shakes her head. "She's wonderful. I just want her to like me back." She puts her head down and cries into his shoulder.

"Ah, love." Louis rubs her back, and Niall throws his arms around both of them and it's not okay but it's the tiniest bit better.

"You need to get absolutely wankered," Niall says when Harry's crying dies down a bit.

The very thought makes Harry want to retch. She makes a whining noise and shakes her head.

"Nah," Louis says. "Niall, run down to the shop and get us some ice cream. I'll find the Notebook DVD. That's what you need, love." He kisses the top of Harry's head and they both get up and let go of her.

Harry sniffles a bit, left on her own. She rubs her eyes, goes to the bathroom to splash water on her face. She changes into her own clothes, joggers and her cosiest hoodie.

Louis and Niall sit on either side of her on the sofa, the three of them pressed close together. They eat ice cream, passing the carton back and forth, and watch The Notebook. Harry cries over Allie and Noah.

"You'll get your happy ending," Niall says, passing her the ice cream. "It just might take some time."

Harry shakes her head. "I don't want to wait forever for it." She sniffles and wipes her eyes on her sleeve.

"You won't," Louis says. "You're wonderful, darling."

Harry leans her head on his shoulder. She hopes he's right, but she keeps her phone on her lap the whole time and Zayn doesn't text.

Zayn sleeps late the day after the party. She doesn't want to face it. She just wants to stay in bed and not think. She knows she looked bad enough last night that Liam hugged her tight but didn't try to make her talk about it; he knows she needs space when things are bad.

Not thinking doesn't work. Even smoking half a joint doesn't keep her from thinking about Harry's face last night.

She draws it, every detail she can remember, the tears in Harry's eyes, the way her face fell. They're good sketches, and they're tearing her to pieces.

She gets disgusted with herself by mid-afternoon and leaves her room for the kitchen. Liam's already there, with the kettle on.

He silently makes them both cups of tea.

Zayn brings her cup up to her face and breathes in the steam. She feels numb and dry-eyed, and the steam helps.

Liam leans on the counter next to her, close enough that she can shift over to lean on him but far enough away that she doesn't feel crowded. "You want to talk about it?"

Zayn's not sure if she does, but she spills the whole story. "And now she probably hates me and I'll never see her again."

Liam doesn't rush to reassure her.

Tears prick at the corner of Zayn's eyes. "You think so too, don't you?"

"No," Liam says slowly. "Zaynie, did you even try working it out?"

Zayn puts her cup down and crosses her arms over her chest. "What's to work out? She's who she is and I'm who I am."

"I go to the gym every day," Liam says, which has nothing to do with anything. "You hate the gym."

"Yeah, so?"

"So," Liam says, "you're still my best mate, yeah?"

"Yeah," Zayn says, because obviously she's his best mate, and he's hers.

"If we can still be best mates, then maybe you and Harry can still be girlfriends."

Zayn sucks in a breath. "It's not the same," she says, but even she can hear that it's not very convincing.

"Maybe not," Liam says, "but don't you want to try? You really liked her."

Zayn picks up her tea and drinks some of it to avoid answering. Liam knows all her tricks; he waits for her to talk.

"I do really like her," she finally says, hunching in on herself. "What if she doesn't like me anymore? I just walked out."

"Then at least you'll know," Liam says with that solid practicality that makes him such a great best mate.

Zayn moves over to lean against Liam. "Maybe."

*

Harry keeps checking her phone, just in case, and Zayn keeps not texting her. It's awful, and she keeps opening their text thread, thinking about what she could text Zayn, and closing it again.

On Sunday she drags herself out of the flat. She takes a book with her and goes to the cafe where she first saw Zayn. She can admit to herself that she's hoping to see Zayn, and even if she doesn't, at least she'll have one of their biscuits.

Zayn's there. Harry's heart stops when she sees her. She's at a table, cup next to her, earbuds in, typing away at her laptop. She looks focused, but tired.

Harry orders a cup of tea and two biscuits. She takes them over to Zayn's table.

Zayn looks up when Harry stands next to her, and then pulls her earbuds out.

"Hi," Harry says.

"Hi."

Harry puts one of the biscuits down, because it's for Zayn no matter what. "Can I sit?"

"Yeah, yeah." Zayn closes her laptop and her books, not even bothering to mark her place, and stacks them to the side, her earbuds on top. She looks at the biscuit for a long moment while Harry gets settled into her chair. "Thanks."

Harry nods. Up close, Zayn looks even more tired, with bags under her eyes and no smile around her mouth. Harry wants to bundle her up in blankets and snuggle her into bed to sleep for hours.

"I'm sorry," Harry says. She's on the verge of tears already. "I'm sorry I took you to a party you hated and made you think you didn't belong."

Zayn's eyes get really wide. "Shit, no." She reaches across and takes Harry's hands. "I'm sorry. I wanted to leave, but it wasn't your fault. I'm not always good with, like, people. I didn't mean to make you cry. Or maybe I did, in the moment, but I shouldn't have."

Harry lets go of one of Zayn's hands, no matter how much she doesn't want to, to wipe the tears out of her eyes.

"Liam said we might be able to work it out," Zayn says. She smiles, just a little bit. "Gave me a whole analogy about how he goes to the gym and I hate it and we're still best mates."

Harry puts her hand back in Zayn's. "I like parties like Nick's, but you don't have to go. And I want you to meet my friends. I think you'll like them. But we can do that in small groups, and quieter." Her heart leaps with hope. "What do you think?"

Zayn holds onto Harry's hands, trying not to squeeze them too tightly. Her heart beats faster. "I get anxious," she says. Her hands start sweating; Harry doesn't let go. "Like, with lots of people. And you're so." She smiles at Harry. "You're so easy in yourself and you love socializing, I see you, I know you do. I don't want to, like, ruin that for you."

"I do like going out and seeing people," Harry says. She takes one of her hands away and pushes her hair back. "I like flirting with lots of people too. I like people." She takes Zayn's hand again. "I also like you. I like you a lot, and I like spending time with just you, here or when we go out for dinner or for a walk."

Zayn looks at their joined hands on top of the table, at the sweep of Harry's thumbs across the backs of Zayn's hands. "I like spending time with you too."

"Yeah?"

Zayn looks up, into Harry's hopeful smile. "Yeah."

"Okay," Harry says, almost more of a sigh than a word. "So we'll figure this out. No more taking you to wild parties."

Zayn lets out a breath, the ghost of a laugh. "I won't, like, take it out on you when I'm feeling anxious." She amends that to, "I'll try not to," which is more realistic.

The corners of Harry's eyes crinkle with her short laugh. "You can tell me, you know, if you're not comfortable. I don't want to do anything to make you anxious."

Zayn thinks about Harry asking her if they were going too fast the first time they hooked up, and about how hard it is for her to be vulnerable. "I can try," she says.

Harry nods. "Okay," she says. "Can I?" She half stands and gestures across the table.

Zayn doesn't know exactly what she's asking, but she says, "Yeah."

Harry lets go of her hands and comes around the table. She pulls the chair next to Zayn closer and sits, so close their thighs touch, and puts her arm around Zayn's shoulder. It feels so good. Zayn leans into it, then turns all the way toward Harry and wraps both her arms around her.

Harry murmurs, "Zayn," into her hair. She kisses Zayn's temple, and then Zayn tips her head up and they kiss for real, soft and slow.

"Score one for communication," Harry says when she pulls back.

Zayn chuckles and kisses the corner of Harry's mouth, a little peck.

They eat the biscuits Harry bought them and talk for a while, and when they leave, Harry walks with her to the corner and then kisses her, hands in Zayn's hair, for a long time before they both go home.

*

Harry sends Louis and Niall out for the evening and makes dinner for Zayn. She sets the table with the best dishes, a pair of candles, and three red roses with an old wine bottle for a vase. She dresses simply, just a pair of jeans and a floral blouse unbuttoned down to her bra, and wears an apron until she buzzes Zayn into the building.

It's worth it when Zayn's eyes travel down from her face to where her shirt lies open. Zayn looks back up, through her eyelashes, and then steps forward and presses a single kiss to the bare skin just above Harry's bra before she tips her head up to kiss Harry's mouth.

"You smell good," Zayn says when she draws back. "It smells good in here."

"Dinner and dessert," Harry says. She leads Zayn to the table by the hand and pulls out her chair for her.

"Oh," Zayn says. She reaches out to stroke the petals of one of the roses while Harry lights the candles. "This is lovely." She smiles up at Harry, shy and pleased. "You're such a romantic."

"I am." Harry bends and kisses Zayn, wanting to taste that smile. "All for you."

They eat and talk and flirt.

Harry puts the leftovers in the fridge for Louis and Niall, and leaves the dishes in the sink; she'll wash them in the morning, or Niall will do them because they're bothering him. Then she takes Zayn and the rest of the bottle of wine they've been sharing to her room.

"Got plans?" Zayn asks with a raised eyebrow from where she's settled onto the bed when Harry locks the door behind them.

"Yep." Harry puts her glass and the bottle on the nightstand where she probably won't knock them all over the place.

Zayn watches her over the rim of her wine glass, eyebrow raised and slight smirk on her face, while Harry kneels on the end of the bed and slowly crawls her way up it. She holds her wine glass to one side when Harry reaches her, not losing the smirk until Harry's kissed her for a few long, slow minutes, one kiss sliding into the next, increasingly familiar taste of Zayn's mouth under her tongue.

"I want to make you feel good." Harry mouths her way up Zayn's jaw to her ear. "Will you let me?"

Zayn swallows, and her voice comes out all breathy. "Yeah, babe."

Harry presses another kiss to the skin just in front of Zayn's ear, then pulls back enough to take Zayn's wine glass out of her hand and put it on the nightstand with hers.

Harry's idea of making Zayn feel good starts with coaxing Zayn out of her shirt and guiding her to lie down. Then she just looks at Zayn for so long that Zayn starts to feel self-conscious about it.

"You look so good in my bed." Harry crouches over Zayn, knees and hands on either side of her. "You're so beautiful." She dips her head and kisses Zayn's cheekbone, the bridge of her nose, her throat. Every one of them burns for the way they're the only place Harry's touching her.

Zayn takes in a shuddering breath. "Harry."

Harry practically smolders up at her, intense and sure. "I want to taste every single bit of you."

Zayn lets out her breath in a heavy exhale, sinking into the bed. "Please."

Harry kisses Zayn's collarbone, licks the skin over it, but not before Zayn can see the smugness there.

There are more kisses, scattered across Zayn's throat, shoulders, chest, right down to the center of her chest between her breasts, just above her bra. Her nipples are tight and hard, showing through her bra like they're asking Harry to touch them.

Harry pauses, rests her chin on Zayn's chest, looking softly up at her while she slides her hands under Zayn's back and unhooks her bra. She pulls it off, and drops it to the side like it doesn't matter while she takes one of Zayn's nipples into her mouth.

It's electric. Zayn gasps and shakes with the shock of pleasure that shoots through her.

Harry tugs a little with her teeth when she lets Zayn's nipple out of her mouth, does the same to the other side.

Zayn's wet, her cunt squeezing around nothing. "Please, Harry."

Harry kisses the underside of her breast. "I'm going to make you feel so good."

Zayn lets out a shaky laugh. "You already are."

"Better," Harry promises against her stomach. She kisses down, a meandering path that leads to the button of her jeans.

Harry takes Zayn's jeans off, pulling her pants with them, pushes her legs apart, not that Zayn needs any coaxing to get Harry between them.

Harry drags her tongue up Zayn's thigh, a line of heat that turns to chill when the air hits it. Then she licks over Zayn's cunt, one single, perfect stripe that's not nearly enough.

Zayn makes a noise somewhere between a moan and a whine.

Harry lifts her head to give Zayn an entirely smug and self-satisfied look, then she puts her mouth on Zayn for real. It's good, good enough that Zayn keeps making noise.

And then two of Harry's fingers, those perfect, long fingers that Zayn's drawn and dreamed about and noticed, are inside her, and her tongue is on her, and Zayn feels good, so incredibly good, and Harry keeps working at her with her mouth and her hands and it gets better and better and better until it explodes into an orgasm that makes her shout and shake.

*

Friday nights become group hangouts. When Liam and Zayn come to Harry's, either Harry or Niall cooks and Louis makes the tea. When Harry and his flatmates go to Liam and Zayn's, Liam makes pasta or Zayn makes one of her mum's curry recipes.

Harry and Zayn go on dates around that schedule. They study in the cafe, they go for long, meandering walks through the streets of London, they hold hands over dinner at small tables in dimly lit restaurants. They have sex. They have lots of sex. Afternoons in one or the other of their flats between lectures, nights after dinner, lunchtimes when Harry throws together sandwiches for them to eat on their way back to campus. Mornings, sometimes, when Harry wakes up in Zayn's bed or with Zayn in hers.

Harry loves those mornings, when she wakes up and gets to watch Zayn sleep. She's not one of those people who become softer in sleep. She loses expression, but she's still Zayn, and Harry could look at her for a long time.

Sometimes she doesn't just want to look.

Harry rubs Zayn's shoulder, leans over her to kiss her cheek. "Wake up, gorgeous."

Zayn scrunches up her whole face. She gropes for her phone and opens her eyes to slits to look at it. Then she drops it on the nightstand with a groan. "I have a lecture in an hour."

Harry rubs her lips over Zayn's cheek. "That's plenty of time."

"I could go back to sleep," Zayn says.

Harry pouts. "Are you turning down sex with me?"

Zayn actually hesitates.

Harry pouts harder. "You can sleep later." She finds Zayn's stomach under the duvet and rests her hand on it, fingers stretching from the bottom of Zayn's breasts to the space between her thighs. "I'm going to Nick's party tonight. You can sleep then."

Zayn squeezes her eyes shut.

Harry moves her hand down. "Come on, baby."

Zayn groans, and opens her eyes. "You promise I can sleep later?"

Harry laughs. "I promise." She kisses Zayn, taking her time, tasting Zayn's sleep sour mouth, catching Zayn's lip between hers.

"Okay." Zayn tips her head up and kisses back, slow and lazy.

"I'll even do all the work," Harry murmurs.

"Mmm, yeah." Zayn smiles at her. "Shoulda started with that."

Harry laughs again. Zayn is so much fun. "Telling you now." She slides her hand down farther, fingers brushing over Zayn's cunt. "I'm going to make you feel so good, darling."

Zayn's eyelashes flutter. "You always do, babe."

Zayn's never really been one for morning sex; she prefers to sleep as long as possible. Harry's making a good case for it now. It feels like she's touching Zayn everywhere. She's moving slow, so everything feels syrupy and dreamlike.

Zayn lets her eyes go half-lidded, open just enough to see Harry. She always wants to look at Harry, and Harry stretches out under her gaze, twisting so one of her breasts is bared, the other still pressed against Zayn. Zayn's breath escapes her, and she thinks in the haze of lust that she'll have to get Harry to pose like that for her so she can draw it.

Harry only holds it for a moment before she settles on top of Zayn, both of those perfectly full breasts against Zayn's skin. She's so much curvier and fuller than Zayn.

Zayn puts her hand on Harry's arse, one of her perfect curves. She'll have to draw that too.

Harry makes a pleased, satisfied noise. "Like that, baby?"

"Mmhmm." Zayn lets her eyes slip all the way closed so she can focus on how it feels.

Harry kisses and touches her slowly, lusciously. Her hands move all over Zayn's body, down her sides, up her arms, into her hair. Her body moves against Zayn's in a slow, pulsing rock, their skin sliding together.

Zayn lets her legs part, wordlessly inviting Harry between them. She's wet, and getting wetter with every touch of Harry's fingers to her skin, every slide of Harry's breasts against hers, every kiss they share.

Harry's hand slips between her thighs, brushes over her in something just firmer than a tease.

"Fuck," Zayn spits out. She opens her eyes to look into Harry's. "Please, babe."

"Yeah," Harry says. "I'm gonna," she promises. She looks a little dazed herself.

Zayn's expecting Harry's fingers; what she gets is Harry's thigh between hers. It's a softer, more diffuse pleasure. It's slow and lazy and builds a little at a time into a slow wave of pleasure cresting over Zayn.

She feels sleepy and lazy in the aftermath, opening her mouth to Harry's kisses and using the hand she never took off of Harry's arse to encourage her to rub herself off on Zayn's thigh.

Zayn watches Harry come, the look on her face and the flush that runs all the way down to the top of her breasts. Then she closes her eyes. She could go back to sleep.

"No, no," Harry chides gently. She lays a series of little kisses over Zayn's face. "You have a lecture."

Zayn groans, but she knows Harry's right. She opens her eyes and doesn't regret it since what greets her is the beautiful sight of Harry's open, sex-flushed face in her bed. It's not a bad way to start the day.

*

Harry's second try at introducing Zayn to Nick goes better than the first. Nick invites them over, and it's just them, Daisy, Pixie, and Alexa. There's music on, because Nick always has music on, but quiet enough that they don't have to shout over it. Nick cooks, and Harry brings a cake.

Zayn clutches Harry's hand tightly when they reach Nick's and ring the bell. She lets go long enough for Harry to hug Nick and take the cake to the kitchen, and takes her hand again while Nick pours them glasses of wine and introduces Zayn around.

It's much more chill than the party, without being completely calm; things never are with Nick's friends. They have a tendency to talk over each other and conversations veer wildly from subject to subject.

Still, by the time they sit down to eat, Zayn no longer has a death grip on Harry's hand, and she's had a conversation with Nick about one of the pieces of art in the sitting room and one with Pixie about a book they've both read.

"You know," Alexa says, eyeing Zayn speculatively across the table, "with those cheekbones, you could do some modeling."

"We could get you in touch with some people," Pixie says, making an inclusive gesture with her wine glass.

"Henry would love to have you on a runway," Nick says.

"No," Zayn says. She manages not to sound like she's panicking, but Harry can see the death grip she has on her fork. "I'm not really into being looked at like that. I'll leave that kind of thing to Harry."

Everyone else bursts out laughing. Zayn looks startled by it.

Harry touches Zayn's hand gently and says, "Heeeey," to make sure Zayn knows they're laughing at Harry and not her.

"Oh thank God," Nick says. "I was waiting for a chance to tell you embarrassing stories about Harriet."

"You're terrible friends," Harry says with a laugh.

"You see," Alexa says, "Henry did convince Harry to walk in one of his shows."

"But Harry," Pixie continues, "is not known for her ability to walk in a straight line."

"Or to stay on her feet," Daisy adds.

"It's those baby deer legs of hers. She tripped over nothing," Nick finishes gleefully, "and Henry never asked her again."

"These things happen," Harry says with as much dignity as she can muster.

"Only to you," Nick says.

Harry turns to look at Zayn.

Zayn looks back at her, lips pressed together, cheeks round, for just a moment before she lets out a laugh. "I'm sorry, babe, but-" She cuts herself off laughing.

Harry pouts at her as long as she can manage it before Zayn's laughter makes her laugh too.

Harry's friends aren't so bad when there are just a few of them and it's quiet. They tell great stories about Harry, and they don't badger Zayn about it once she says modeling is not for her. Still, there is only so long Zayn can spend with a handful of near strangers who only get louder as they have more to drink.

Zayn slips outside when no one's paying direct attention to her. She came out without her coat, so it's too cold, and she's stopped smoking again, so she doesn't really have an excuse.

Her shoulders tense when the door opens behind her. It closes again, and then Harry drapes herself over Zayn's shoulders and she relaxes.

"Hi." Harry presses a slightly sloppy kiss to Zayn's cheek. It's adorable.

"Hi." Zayn turns her head to return the kiss.

"Hi," Harry says again, her voice and dimples deepening. "Are you ready to leave?"

Relief washes through Zayn and she says, "Yes," with less desperation than she might have if Harry hadn't recognized it.

Harry removes herself from where she's draped over Zayn's shoulders, which is a disappointment, and then she takes Zayn's hand, which is better. "Let's go." She gives Zayn a conspiratorial grin. "I know how to get us out of here in under ten minutes."

Zayn tugs at Harry's hand to keep her from pulling Zayn into the flat. "You don't have to come with me."

"I know, but I want to." Harry plants another sloppy kiss on Zayn's cheek. She's obviously had more wine than Zayn. Then she frowns a bit. "Unless you want to be totally alone."

Zayn's heart melts. Harry is just so lovely, and so lovely to her. She ducks her head. "I'd like to be alone with you." She peeks up from under her lashes to see how Harry takes that.

Harry ducks in and kisses her, swift and more like a prelude to more than anything else. "I can get us out of here in five minutes."

Zayn laughs and lets Harry pull her into the flat. Five minutes later, they're on the street outside holding hands on the way to the Tube.

They find seats in a mostly empty carriage and sit pressed close together. Harry's arm drapes over Zayn's shoulder. Zayn turns to lean a little more of her body against Harry's chest. Harry's other arm comes around her, her hands linked together to make a circle keeping Zayn close. Zayn's never been so glad to be so close to another person.

They go to Zayn's, stumbling their way through the darkened apartment to her room and into her bed.

"Glad you're alone with me?" Harry asks later, while they're touching each other in a hazy, slow way that's making Zayn feel drunk with pleasure.

"Yeah." Zayn pulls Harry down to kiss her some more. "Really glad."

*

Harry pouts at her so-called friends. "I'm wearing men's trousers." She glances down at herself. "And a men's shirt. I could be butch."

They all laugh at her.

"Sorry, babe," Zayn says, giving her a little smirk. "If anyone's the butch one in this relationship, it's me."

Harry turns her pout on Zayn, but she can't hold it for very long. Zayn's wearing boots, black skinny jeans, and a t-shirt that's tight around her biceps. The only thing that keeps her from looking like the epitome of a butch fantasy is her long hair falling softly around her face and shoulders. She looks so good.

Zayn quirks her eyebrows at Harry, and then, without looking away from her, she drains her pint, and says, "We're leaving now."

Harry nods eagerly.

Someone throws a balled up serviette at her. Harry turns a frown on Louis, the most likely culprit. "Hey."

"Who are you sexiling?" Louis asks. "Us or Liam?"

Niall laughs, and Liam turns red.

"We're not sexiling anyone," Harry says.

"Yes, you are," Louis says. "No one wants to hear that."

"Liam," Zayn says.

Harry looks at her and then at Liam. They're looking at each other like they're having a silent conversation, and then Zayn turns to look at Harry instead. Her gaze is heated, and Harry shivers under it.

A slow smile spreads across Zayn's face. "Come on, babe." She chivvies Harry out of the booth.

"Bye," Harry throws over her shoulder while Zayn leads her away. She vaguely registers Louis laughing behind her, but it's not at all important with the way Zayn is leading her along.

They go to Zayn's, where Zayn ignores Harry's attempts to kiss her at the door and instead pushes her along to Zayn's room, and then down onto her bed.

Harry lets her arms fall to the bed up near her head, and she turns her best sultry look on Zayn. "You going to show me how butch you are now?"

"Like I haven't been doing that all night." Zayn smolders - there's really no other word for it - down at her.

Harry lets out a sigh and relaxes further into Zayn's bed. She tilts her head to bare her neck a little more. "Come on, love, show me how butch you can be."

Zayn hovers over her, knees on the outside of Harry's hips, hands on the bed just above her shoulders. Harry waits in breathless suspense until Zayn finally dips her head down and kisses her. It's a demanding, controlling kiss that Harry whimpers into.

It's not the way they usually are in bed, and Harry has a moment to think that they need to be this way more often because it's so fucking hot, and then Zayn is kissing her again and unbuttoning her shirt and she stops thinking.

Zayn tends to be more of the lie back and let Harry take care of her sort, but she finds it's a particular thrill to turn the tables and be the one to take charge.

She pushes Harry's shirt open. She drops a few kisses onto Harry's chest before she slides her hands under the edges of Harry's shirt and up her arms. Harry obligingly lifts up enough that Zayn can take her shirt off. While she has Harry arching like that, Zayn reaches under her and unhooks her bra. She pulls it off of Harry, drawing it up so Harry doesn't have to move her hands.

Harry looks so soft like this, with her hair spread around her on Zayn's pillow and her breasts making soft mounds of her chest. There are red marks from her bra under them; Zayn runs her thumbs over them, firm but not too hard.

Harry lets out a sigh, and her eyes close. "Feels good," she says.

"Yeah?" Zayn leans down, close enough for her breath to brush over Harry's skin when she speaks. "Gonna make you feel even better."

Harry stretches, arches her back to push her breasts up, because she sure does know how to make herself look good. That's okay; Zayn knows how to make her feel good.

Zayn takes Harry's nipple into her mouth and sucks, gentle at first, and then harder when it pebbles in her mouth and Harry lets out a moan. Zayn puts her hands on Harry's shoulders, slides them up her arms, pressing them down to remind her that she's not in control of this.

Harry moans again.

"Be a good girl for me and stay right there," Zayn says when she takes her mouth off of Harry's breast.

Harry's hips buck up under Zayn. "Oh fuck," she moans.

Zayn moves her hands to Harry's hips, holding her down there. "You want to be good for me, don't you, babe?"

Harry's eyes are closed, her whole face flushed, her mouth dropping open on another moan.

Zayn means to do more, but her cunt pulses and her mouth waters at the view, and she changes her plans. She keeps her hands on Harry's hips, holding her down to the bed, and uses her knees to nudge Harry's thighs apart wide enough to make space for herself between them.

She has to press down harder when she gets her mouth on Harry. She can feel how hard Harry is working to be good and how much she wants to push into Zayn's mouth at the same time.

Harry's so wet under her tongue, and Zayn just wants to make her feel good. She goes hard right from the start, and she knows Harry's body so well that it doesn't take very long before Harry's coming under her with loud moans and Zayn looks up her body to watch her breasts heave while she keeps her hands right where Zayn put them.

"Good girl," Zayn says when Harry's done coming. Harry shudders, and again when Zayn kneels over her face and says, "Be good for me, babe."

*

Harry most definitively does not pout, _Louis_ , in the days leading up to the end of term. She's busy with exams, not pouting, _Louis_ , about being away from Zayn for a month.

She is going to miss Zayn desperately, and even if Harry does meet up with Zayn - not a certainty, because Zayn is worrying about it and whether Harry will like her family or if Harry's family will like her, no matter how many times Harry tells her it will be fine - it won't be the same because they'll be in her parents' house or Zayn's parents' house and not alone the way they can be in London.

Zayn and Liam come over to Harry, Louis, and Niall's flat the last night they're all in London. It's great, because it's always loads of fun when they're all together. And it's terrible, because this is the last time she's going to see Zayn for a while and they're not getting any time alone together.

Except, really, there's no reason they shouldn't.

Harry slips between Zayn and the arm of the sofa. Zayn makes space for her and puts an arm around her. The way Zayn reaches back when Harry reaches for her is one of the things Harry loves about her.

Harry nuzzles into Zayn's neck until Zayn turns to look at her. "What's up, babe?"

Harry smiles at her, deliberately slow and seductive. "Come to my room."

"We were going to watch Iron Man," Zayn says.

Harry pouts, just enough to get her point across then nuzzles up against Zayn's ear so Zayn isn't traumatized by everyone hearing it when Harry says, "We could do that, or we could go to my room and I could eat you out."

Zayn's mouth makes an O that doesn't have any sound with it. "Yeah, let's." She takes Harry's hand and lets her pull her toward her room.

They both ignore the boys' comments behind them, and the way the sound on the telly goes up. Harry kicks the door to her room shut behind them and pushes Zayn toward the bed.

"I want to get my mouth on you," she says.

Zayn laughs just a little bit, and strips out of her clothes, leaving them in a heap on Harry's floor. She falls back onto Harry's bed, naked and gorgeous.

Harry wraps her hand around one of Zayn's ankles. "I'm going to miss you."

Zayn's face goes all soft. "Gonna miss you too, babe." She nudges Harry, a little shift of her leg. "Come on, show me just what I'm going to miss."

Harry waggles her eyebrows just to make Zayn laugh, because she wants a reminder too, and it's not just Zayn's taste that she doesn't want to be without.

Then she licks her way up Zayn's leg from her ankle to her knee. "You sure you don't want to go watch Iron Man instead?"

Zayn's going to miss Harry. She doesn't think she's ever laughed in bed as much as she has with Harry.

"Shut up," she says. "Eat me out."

Harry nips the inside of her thigh, just sharp enough to light up all of Zayn's nerves.

Harry moves up, the flat of her tongue dragging over Zayn's thigh as she goes. She knows what Zayn likes, and she gets to it. She opens her mouth soft and wet over Zayn, licks at her clit just right, gets her fingers in her so long and so good. It's everything Zayn thought about the first time she saw Harry, and better because Harry knows her body now.

Zayn tries to keep herself quiet since they're not alone in the flat. She bites her lip and muffles her moans while Harry drives her higher and higher with her mouth and her fingers and her other hand ranging up to cup one of Zayn's breasts. She breaks when Harry makes her come, can hear herself getting louder, too loud probably, but Harry obviously doesn't care because she works Zayn all the way through it.

Harry doesn't lift her face up from between Zayn's thighs until Zayn pulls gently on her hair to get her to stop before it becomes too much in a bad way.

Harry licks her lips and smirks up at Zayn, pulls her fingers out agonizingly slowly. "Good?"

Zayn smiles at her; she's going to miss her so much. "You're always good, babe." She tilts her head to give Harry a sultry look. "You going to get naked for me now?"

Harry strips slowly, probably as much so she won't trip over anything as to put on a show. It's a good show, the slow reveal of her skin, her breasts falling heavy out of her bra, the naked curve of her hips coming into view.

Once she's naked, she runs a hand down her body, slips her fingers between her legs.

Zayn goes a little breathless. She could just watch, use that memory to keep her warm while they're apart. But that's not what she wants. She beckons Harry toward her. "Come sit on my face."

Harry flashes her a cheeky grin. "Oh, I'm going to come."

Zayn half groans, half laughs at the bad joke while Harry climbs onto the bed and crawls all the way up Zayn's body to settle over her face. She surrounds Zayn, scent and taste and heat, and Zayn opens her mouth, licks Harry out and lets her ride her face until she comes. Harry doesn't even try to be quiet.

Harry slides down the bed, lying her naked body over Zayn's, and they snog, so soft and so long that Zayn has to force herself out of Harry's bed instead of falling asleep right there. She has to put her clothes on; Harry pulls on a robe that gapes across her chest to say goodbye to Liam and kiss Zayn long and lingering at the door.

"I'm going to text you all the time," Harry says before she lets Zayn go.

"I'm counting on it, babe," Zayn assures her.

*

Harry's a little concerned about the texts Zayn's just sent her, saying that she "did something" and that she's not sure if Harry will like it. The uncertainty means Zayn probably didn't cheat on her - not that Harry thinks she would, but the texts are worrying. And then Zayn sends her a selfie. She's cut off all her hair, leaving just a thin fuzz of it over her head. It makes her cheekbones and chin look sharper than Harry's ever seen them.

Harry stares at the picture for a long, breathless moment. Then she scrambles to call Zayn.

"Hey." Zayn's voice is flat, like she's trying not to give anything away. Knowing her the way she does, Harry guesses she's trying not to let her nerves show.

"Fuck, Zayn, that's so hot."

"Yeah?" There's a bit of warmth in Zayn's voice now.

"Yes," Harry says firmly. "Are you alone?"

"Yeah," Zayn says, her voice going up into a little bit of a question.

"I didn't want to tell you how wet you make me if your sisters were going to overhear," Harry explains.

Zayn huffs a sound that's something like a gasp and something like a laugh.

Harry grins. "I can't wait to find out what it feels like. I can't wait to find out what it feels like when you're going down on me."

"Fuck, babe." There's a rasp in Zayn's voice that does things to Harry.

"Wait, wait," Harry says in a rush. "I'm taking my clothes off." She sets down her phone and strips quickly, letting her clothes fall to the floor so she can get naked and back to Zayn as fast as possible. She scoops her phone up again and drops onto her bed. "I'm back, and naked."

Zayn lets out a nervous giggle. "You really are?"

"I really am." Harry shifts to make herself a little more comfortable, head resting comfortably on her pillow, legs spread just a bit. "You gonna get naked with me darling?"

"No," Zayn says in a rush. Harry can almost picture the way she looks when she's nervous and turned on all at once.

"That's alright," Harry says. "Get yourself off over your clothes like our first time." Her own voice gets a little raspy at that, at the memory of it. She puts a hand between her legs and presses down. "Come on, love."

She can hear Zayn inhale over the phone, and then she whispers, "Yeah, okay, babe."

Phone sex is a new one for Zayn. Figures that it would be Harry who encourages her into it. She's said she will, so she slides down her bed and spreads her legs. She can picture what Harry must look like now, knows well enough what she looks like naked, and can imagine what she looks like naked with her phone ready to get off while she's talking to Zayn.

"Are you touching yourself?" Harry asks. She doesn't wait for an answer before she continues. "I am." She gives a little sigh. "Wish you were touching me."

"Yeah," Zayn murmurs. "Me too." She tentatively puts her free hand on herself, just resting it on her belly for now. She wishes it were Harry's. Harry's hand on her or her hand on Harry's belly.

"Yeah," Harry murmurs back at her. "Touch yourself for me, darling."

It's an irresistible command. Zayn strips off her hoodie and t-shirt and puts her hand on her bare skin. Then she slides down the bed, switches her phone to speaker, and sets it on the pillow next to her.

"I'm touching myself, babe." Zayn puts both her hands on her skin, sliding them up and down her belly, cupping her breasts over her bra for a moment, sliding down to her waistband.

Harry lets out another soft sigh. "It's going to be so good when I get to see you again. Can't wait to see what it feels like under my hands when you're eating me out."

Zayn reaches up to run a hand over her head, to feel a little bit of what it's going to feel like when Harry does it. It's good. She keeps her hand there while she runs the other over her waistband and down between her legs to touch herself over her trackies.

Harry keeps talking, telling Zayn how good it's going to be, how good it is now, how much she wants to be touching Zayn.

Zayn rubs herself off to the sound of Harry's voice, the times it breaks over a moan, the way she can picture Harry touching herself.

"So good, darling," Harry says. "Are you getting close? Wanna hear you come."

Zayn is, and she gets even closer when Harry says that. "Yeah," she promises. "Yeah, babe, gonna-" She breaks off and listens to Harry breathe, gasping and audible over the phone, while she finds the right angle, the right pressure, and makes herself come.

"Zaynie," Harry says, breathless, and then Zayn gets to listen to her come too.

They're quiet for a little bit, breathing down the line at each other.

"I miss you," Zayn blurts out. She didn't mean to say that.

"Me too, love," Harry says. She sounds warm, and cosy, and Zayn really wishes she could be there to fall asleep with Harry now.

*

Harry hovers in the entryway, phone gripped in her hand.

"Aren't you going out there?" Gemma asks. "That is her, right?"

"Yeah," Harry says.

Zayn pulled up in her mum's car five minutes ago.

Harry leans against Gemma's shoulder. "I'm letting her take her time." She really wants to run outside and pull Zayn out of the car to kiss her, but she knows how anxious this whole meeting the family thing is making Zayn to begin with, and she doesn't want to scare her.

Gemma puts an arm around Harry's shoulders and squeezes. Then she goes off to wait with their mum and Robin.

It's another two very long minutes before Harry's phone buzzes with Zayn's text saying she's arrived.

Harry waits a few more seconds, so it's not so obvious she's been hovering, before she opens the door.

Zayn's already on her way up the walk. There's no possible way Harry can keep from grinning like a fool. She does wait for Zayn to come to her; no need to embarrass her in front of all the neighbors.

By the time Zayn reaches the door, she's smiling too, and she doesn't object when Harry pulls her inside, barely pausing to kick the door shut before she wraps her arms around Zayn.

"Zaynie."

"Hey, babe." Zayn kisses her, and it's just as good as Harry remembered. It's everything she's been missing. Almost everything.

When they break apart to breathe, Harry smiles at Zayn, and then she says, "Let me see."

Zayn has the hood of the hoodie under her coat pulled up over her head, and a beanie under that. She tugs the hood down, and pulls off her beanie, looking down as she stuffs it into a pocket of her coat.

Harry sucks in a breath. As good as the shaved head looked in the picture Zayn sent her, it looks even better in person. And like this, with Zayn looking down, she can see how sharp her cheekbones are.

"Fuck," Harry breathes. She reaches out to touch, running her hand over the top of Zayn's head. It's warm and slightly bristly under her hand. "I can't wait until we're alone."

Zayn ducks her head, which just makes it easier for Harry to stroke her head again. She likes the way it feels on her hand; it's going to feel even better on the rest of her skin. Zayn's lips are parted, and she lets out a little sigh.

Then she steps back, and says, "Your family," looking nervous again.

Harry ducks in to kiss her again, wanting to and hoping it will calm her down a bit. Then she takes Zayn's hand and takes her to meet her family.

Harry's family is nice. Of course they are. They'd have to be to produce Harry. Still, Zayn is relieved when Harry takes her up to her room. Harry wraps her arms around Zayn as soon as the door is closed behind them and pulls Zayn into a kiss.

Zayn kisses her back, and it's nice, lovely, really. And then Harry deepens it and one of her hands is curving over the back of Zayn's head and the other is creeping down to her arse.

"Harry," she protests. "Babe, your family."

"They know about us," Harry says. She smiles winningly at Zayn. "We can be quiet."

Zayn's not sure they can. But then Harry's running both of her hands over Zayn's head, rubbing against what's left of Zayn's hair.

"You're so gorgeous," Harry says. Her hands are big enough that she can sweep her thumbs over Zayn's cheekbones while still cradling the back of Zayn's head with her fingers.

Zayn gives in. She returns the favor, tangling her hands in Harry's hair and pulling her close. It's so good to be kissing Harry again. Harry turns it wet and lush, and she pushes one thigh between Zayn's, hands on her arse pulling her into it.

Zayn gasps into the kiss and slides one of her hands down Harry's back to her arse and return the favor. They could get off like this, rubbing off on each other.

Harry's the one to break away, her hands going to the hem of Zayn's hoodie. "Clothes off, baby."

Zayn helps, the two of them working together to get both of their clothes off. Harry pauses, then, looking Zayn up and down with heat in her eyes.

"Gorgeous," she murmurs.

Zayn can feel the heat rising in her cheeks. "Thought you wanted to see what it feels like when I'm going down on you," she says.

Harry's eyes close and her mouth opens on a soft moan. "Yes," she says. "Yes, please."

Zayn gently pushes Harry over to the edge of the bed. Harry sits, and Zayn gets on her knees in front of her.

"Yeah," Harry breathes. "Yeah, that's it, baby." She spreads her legs, so there's enough space for Zayn's shoulders between her knees and Zayn's face between her thighs. She's already so wet under Zayn's tongue. Then she puts her hands on Zayn, feeling the bristle of her hair and shape of her skull, and she moans.

It's too loud, but Zayn doesn't stop to tell her that. It feels too good to have Harry's hands warm around her head and Harry's cunt wet and swollen under her mouth. She wants this all the time, and she's going to miss it when she goes back to her family later.

*

Harry barely manages to wait for Zayn to come over after they're back in London instead of planting herself on Zayn and Liam's doorstep waiting for her.

"Baby." Harry wraps her arms around Zayn for a tight hug before pulling back just enough to kiss her. Even something hitting her in the back isn't enough to pull her away from Zayn.

"Get a room," Louis yells at them.

Something else hits Harry in the back. She finally lets go of Zayn and turns around to find two of Louis's socks balled up on the floor and Louis with bare feet.

"Louis, why would you?" Harry says mournfully. Behind her, Zayn leans against her back, and Harry can feel the vibration of her laugh.

"Nobody wants to see that, Harriet," Louis says. "Besides, heard Zayn's got a new look." He gestures at them. "Come on, Z. Let's see it."

Zayn takes off her coat, pulls down the hood of her hoodie, and pulls off her beanie. She rubs a hand over her head before she steps around Harry.

It takes everything Harry has to let Louis and Niall get a look instead of pulling Zayn to her and putting her hands all over her. And her hair, which has grown out just a tiny bit since Harry last saw her and probably feels different now. Will probably feel different between her thighs.

Harry tunes back in when Louis reaches his hand out and stops just short of touching. "Sorry, mate. Wasn't thinking."

Zayn dips her head. "Nah, 's okay. You can touch it."

Louis and Niall both do.

"It's so fuzzy," Niall laughs.

"Looks good, Z," Louis says, rubbing over Zayn's head one more time.

And that's enough of that, Harry decides. She steps up against Zayn's back and wraps her arms around her. She presses her lips to the top of Zayn's head. Her hair does feel different, and Harry gets a little distracted rubbing her lips against it.

"Ugh," Louis says. "You have a room. Go use it if you're going to do that."

Harry sticks her tongue out at him. She takes the suggestion, though, and laces her fingers through Zayn's. "Come on, darling," she says right up against Zayn's temple.

From this angle, she can just see the edge of Zayn's smile, the way her eyelashes sweep down.

Zayn follows her without protest, and it's a pleasure to be alone together where they can take their time, where Harry can undress her slowly and carefully, where she can refamiliarize herself with every inch of Zayn's body.

After a few token efforts to get Harry's clothes off, Zayn gives in to what Harry wants, which is to take Zayn's clothes off, lay her down on the bed, and put her mouth all over her. It's not as if having Harry's mouth on her is in any way a problem.

She comes with Harry's head between her thighs and her hands tangled in Harry's hair. She tugs Harry up with that grip when she's too sensitive to bear Harry's mouth any longer and licks into Harry's mouth to taste herself there.

She gets Harry out of her clothes while they snog, and then she gently pushes Harry over onto her back and takes her turn kissing her way down Harry's body and between her legs. Harry tastes just the same, and Zayn laps at her cunt hungrily.

The pads of Harry's fingers dig into her skull when she comes, and she pets over Zayn's head after.

"I missed you," Zayn says after she moves up to lie half on Harry where they can snog some more.

"Zaynie," Harry says, "I missed you so much." She licks into Zayn's mouth, slides her hand all the way down Zayn's back to her arse. Then she looks right into Zayn's eyes. It's intense, and Zayn can feel her heart beating faster and faster, and then it stops and skips a beat when Harry says, "I love you." She's so much braver than Zayn is.

Zayn has to bury her face in Harry's neck before she can say, just barely loud enough for Harry to hear, "I love you too."

Harry squeezes her tight, and then whispers, "Baby," and tips Zayn's head up to kiss her.

They snog for what feels like ages, bare skin slipping against each other. It's like neither one of them can bear to stop kissing for any longer than they need to take a breath.

They keep kissing and kissing and kissing, even when Harry gently turns Zayn onto her back, slots their legs together, and rubs them both off like that, thighs interlaced and mouths pressed tight.

"I love you," Harry says over and over again. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

Zayn clings as tight as she can and tries to tell Harry the same thing with her body and her tongue, and she manages to say it again, when Harry makes her come, her head tipping back and the words falling out of her mouth.

Harry kisses her again, comes shuddering against Zayn, tells her she loves her again in the shaky aftermath when they still can't let go of each other.

The last thing Zayn's aware of before she falls asleep is Harry's voice whispering, "Love you," into her ear.

*

For Valentine's Day, Harry makes a deal with Louis and Niall to get the flat to herself and cooks dinner for Zayn. She's still wearing her apron over a long-sleeved floral dress when Zayn arrives. Zayn, when she takes off her coat, is wearing her boots, black skinny jeans, and a white button-down shirt with the top two buttons undone, and her hair is still short.

Harry flings herself at Zayn, needing to kiss her desperately. Zayn laughs and kisses her, arms too gentle around her because when Harry lets her go, she has things in each hand.

"For you," Zayn says. She ducks her head a little as she holds out a bouquet of roses and a box of chocolates.

"Zaynie." Harry takes them and presses a bunch of kisses to Zayn's cheek. "Thank you, baby." She brings Zayn into the kitchen with her so they don't have to be apart while she finishes dinner, and so she can give Zayn a carefully wrapped box.

Zayn carefully unties the ribbon Harry wrapped around it and lifts the lid off the box. She draws out the sketchbook inside, runs her hands over the cover and the paper inside.

Harry has to remind herself to breathe and that she'll have those hands running over her own skin later.

Zayn turns a smile up at Harry. "Thank you. It's gorgeous."

Harry reaches out and taps the deep red cover of the sketchbook. "I thought maybe red, for drawing things you love."

Zayn's smile deepens. "Going to draw a lot of you in here then."

Harry has to reach out and kiss her. She gets so involved in it that she has to jerk herself back from it to make sure their dinner doesn't burn. Once she's made sure everything will be okay for another minute or two, she kisses Zayn again, tries to keep it to a reasonable minute, and then pulls back to let her lips just brush over Zayn's as she says, "I love you, darling."

"Babe, I love you so much." Zayn rolls her forehead against Harry's. "I've never felt-" She cuts herself off and kisses Harry again, which is only a problem because the timer goes off while she's doing it.

Harry drags herself away from Zayn so she doesn't have to serve them a burnt meal. She lights candles and they sit next to each other at one corner of the table. They eat slowly, because they can't stop kissing and touching each other.

Harry leaves the washing up in the sink for later and only barely remembers to blow out the candles on the table before she takes Zayn to her bedroom.

Harry makes Zayn wait outside her bedroom while Harry goes into it for a moment before she lets Zayn in. The only light in the room is from the candles Harry must have been lighting when she left Zayn outside. They're set across the room from the bed, where they won't knock them over. Harry's tidied, and the bed is turned down invitingly.

Harry draws Zayn into her arms and kisses her deeply. There's nothing but the two of them, their lips together, their hands roaming over each other's bodies.

Harry reaches between them first, unbuttoning Zayn's shirt. Zayn drops her arms behind her and lets it fall to the floor before she reaches for Harry's dress. Harry's not wearing anything under it.

Zayn gapes at her in the soft glow of the candlelight. Her fingers itch to draw Harry like this, curves and shadows in the flickering light. They itch to touch more.

"Harry," she breathes.

Harry flashes her a cheeky grin. "Surprise."

Zayn grabs at her, hands going for Harry's arse and back, pulling her in close. Harry reaches around her, holds her close, then undoes the clasp of her bra. Zayn shrugs out of it, reveling in pressing against Harry skin to skin. Harry is the one to reach between them again, undoing Zayn's jeans. Zayn helps get them and her pants off, and they move to the bed when they're both naked.

Harry keeps kissing her, and then she moves down to Zayn's neck, lips and tongue and teeth against her skin. She goes lower, sucks one of Zayn's nipples into her mouth, scrapes her teeth over it.

Zayn's so wet. She gasps, and twines her hands in Harry's hair and wants to let Harry keep going. But she wants to taste more than she wants that.

"Harry." She tugs at Harry's hair. "Harry, babe, sit on my face."

"Yes," Harry says, and she scrambles up, her fleshy thighs settling on either side of Zayn's head.

She's so wet she's practically dripping. Zayn licks first, catching the wetness on her tongue, before she puts all of her effort into it. Harry comes with a moan that's so hot it makes Zayn clench her own thighs together.

"Babe," Zayn says. "Baby, please. I need you."

Harry slides all the way down, her body dragging over Zayn's the whole way, and buries her face between Zayn's legs. She laps at Zayn more energetically than Zayn would be able to do just after she's come. It's so good, Harry's always so good to her, and Zayn loves her and she winds her hands in Harry's hair and just holds on while Harry makes her come so hard she sees stars.

*

They're lying in Zayn's bed just after Easter hols, resting and snogging between rounds - or Harry hopes they'll be fucking again as soon as they can anyway - when Harry mumbles, "We should talk about the future."

"Okay," Zayn says drowsily. And then she says, "What are we going to do this summer?" at the same time Harry says, "Do you want kids?"

They blink at each other for a moment. Zayn doesn't stop running her hand through Harry's hair, and Harry doesn't stop sliding her hand up and down the smooth skin of Zayn's back.

"Kids?" Zayn asks.

Harry brings both her hands up to frame Zayn's face, so she can look at her and so Zayn can't look away from her. "I want kids," she says. "I know you want cats and dogs, but I don't know if you want kids." She smooths her thumbs over Zayn's cheeks. "I want kids with you."

Zayn blinks at her a couple of times. "I hadn't really- I mean, yes? I always thought I would have them someday."

"Someday," Harry agrees, because she didn't mean right now. "Do you want them with me?" She bites her lip. "I love you, and I want us to be, like, really serious."

"Harry," Zayn says. "Babe, I've never even told any other girl I love her." She reaches out and runs a finger down the line of Harry's nose. "I'm serious."

A wave of relief runs through Harry. She thought they were serious, but sometimes it can be hard to tell what Zayn's thinking. She wriggles closer to Zayn, not that there's much space between them, and kisses her. It's soft, both of them being gentle with each other.

"That's a long way off," Zayn says after a few minutes. "Summer hols aren't."

"No," Harry agrees. "I was planning to stay here for most of it. Get a job. I used to work in a bakery at home. Go visit my parents, maybe take the train over to Paris." She runs her hands over the light stubble covering Zayn's skull. "I don't have to. I can change my plans if you want to do something else."

Zayn scrunches up her nose. "I don't know," she says. "I hate to be away from my family for so long, but I don't want to be away from you either."

"I don't want to be away from you either," Harry says. "You could stay here for part of it and go home for part of it." She rubs her thumb over Zayn's cheek. "We could go to Paris together."

Zayn takes a moment to think about that. Paris with Harry. She can imagine it, the two of them walking through the streets hand in hand, kissing on one of the bridges, going up the Eiffel Tower together.

Zayn smiles and turns her head to kiss Harry's palm. "You're such a romantic."

"I am," Harry agrees easily. She cups the back of Zayn's head in one of her large hands. "We went on a walk in London for one of our first dates. We could go for a walk in Paris next." She nuzzles Zayn's cheek. "Take selfies by the Seine to match our selfies by the Thames. It would be something we could tell our kids about."

Their kids. Zayn just agreed that she wants to have kids with Harry. She can feel an almost hysterical laugh bubbling up inside her. She does want that, but it's so early to talk about it. They haven't even known each other for a whole year.

Zayn stifles her laugh by kissing Harry, and Harry, her romantic Harry, draws it out into another and another and another.

"Okay," Zayn says, breathless and almost desperate for Harry now. "I'll stay here. We'll go to Paris." She takes in as deep a breath as she can manage and threads her fingers through Harry's. "Maybe you could come home with me for a couple of days."

"Zaynie," Harry breathes. Her eyes are shiny. "Yes, I want to meet your family." She peppers kisses all over Zayn's face. "I want to meet your family and go to Paris with you and have your babies."

Zayn can't keep in a giggle, and she says, "I love you so much, babe," before she draws Harry to her and kisses her, hard and harder, tongue and lips and teeth until they're both breathless. Then she pushes Harry over onto her back, hungry for her.

"Yes," Harry says when Zayn slides down her body. "Yes, darling," she says over and over again while Zayn tries to assuage her desperate wanting by eating Harry out until she shudders all over with her orgasm and pushes Zayn away when she's too sensitive.

It's not quite enough, but when Harry puts her hand over Zayn's mouth so Zayn can mouth at the heel of her palm while Harry makes her come, it's just about right. And they're going to go to Paris together and Harry's going to have her babies, so she has plenty of time to get her fill.


End file.
